Life Is Good
by DC Luder
Summary: Second in the Series of Three storyline. As Bruce reclaims the mantle of the Bate, the Family draws together to fight old enemies and to make new acquaintances. Ch. 1-10 have been modified as of 12/12/11
1. Life Is Good: I

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second story in the Series of Three. Set three months after his  
recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.  
Finally had a chance to start revamping this seven-year-old gem. Hopefully, I  
can stop working on the sixth story in this series long enough to take care of  
the long neglected second one...

^V^

"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever  
you call it, whoever you are, you need one."

Jane Howard

^V^

"Five out of ten, old man," I said between gasps, unable to gloat as I pinned  
Bruce face down on the training mats, "Going to have to do better than that."

My left arm had his pulled back to the painful point of near dislocation as my  
free elbow dug a rivet into his right kidney. We had been sparring for well over  
two hours and neither one of us had won a consecutive round. He growled beneath  
me, signaling his surrender and I released him.

A little over a year earlier, I would have lost every match to him and I would  
have never said aloud, "Little slow on the take down, Bruce, that's how I got  
your arm."

But a lot can happen in a year…

He rolled over onto his back and looked up at me, his facial expression  
suggesting that I needed to learn when to shut up. Rather than back down, I  
continued to grin at him, knowing how much it bothered him. Especially after he  
had to stare at said smile for going on two hours, whether I had the upper hand  
or not. The fact that I had been helping him tune his skills over the last three  
months, from physical strength to reaction times, was a blessing. One I wasn't  
about to take for granted.

With every passing day, he had advanced further and further, nearing his long  
lost level of perfection. In my year as Batman, I had honed my skills in order  
to portray his image as best as I could, building on my normal lean frame in  
order to pack the power behind his infamous one-hit knockouts. I had sacrificed  
a portion of my sanity, for sure, but someone had to carry on the grim and  
brooding presence.

There had been times when Barbara had been concerned about me going over the  
edge while wearing myself too thin. I had been as well but had managed to brush  
it off, carrying on as I always had and worrying about others instead of little  
old me. Miraculously, when I had hit a proverbial wall and began to question my  
future, of a life I had never intended on living, Bruce had come back to us. I  
was more than happy to hand back the cape and cowl to Bruce the very second he  
felt he was ready to wear it. There was no denying that the year spent in his  
shoes had made me a better crime fighter, but it would be nice to get things  
back to normal.

Namely to get back into my own tights and back to living the cape free life.

Still grining, I offered my hand to help him up which he surprisingly took it,  
while thinking how much he had changed in the last year. He enjoyed family  
dinners, he smiled at his infant daughter, he showed no hesitation in kissing  
Selina in plain sight. I had feared that the changes would have faded once his  
memories had emerged but thankfully they had remained intact, albeit kept under  
tighter control.

He had to lose everything in order to learn that there had been more to life  
than his never ending war on crime. Bruce had all but dropped the fop act in  
public, claiming that the changes in his personal life were responsible for his  
rapid maturity. The press had eaten it up,, all to excited to see Gotham's Son  
finally settling down. Tim and I joked that really, they wanted to see him  
marry Selina only to countdown to the nasty divorce. Out of both of their  
hearing ranges, of course.

My string of thoughts were interrupted when I became airborne.

Bruce had grasped my arm tightly and then rose quickly to get the momentum he  
needed. He threw me at the foam-padded wall eight feet away where I landed with  
a pronounced thud. Any air I had in my lungs came gushing out. Winded, I  
watched helplessly as Bruce approached me, his calf muscles jumping with each  
step.

"Dick, what was the first thing I taught you?"

I had landed upside down, my torso standing up right against the wall with my  
legs dangling in front of me. One arm was pinned behind my back as the other  
laid limply to the side. Even In the awkward position, I managed to chide him,  
"Um, don't slide down the banisters?"

He shook his head and stared at me with cold eyes.

I guessed, "Um, expect the unexpected?"

He nodded and then offered a slight smile before reaching down and giving me his  
hand.

Rolling to my side in order to right myself, I accepted the help and was about  
to attempt to throw him when he glared at me. Once I was standing in front of  
him, I smiled, "Just checking your reflexes, Bruce."

He narrowed his eyes briefly before replying, "Right." After a pause, he added,  
"That's enough for today."

Rubbing my sore neck, I concurred, "Agreed. Did you still want a spot for  
weights?" Since he walked away without a word, I called after him, "I'll take  
that as a no?"

So maybe there were some things that hadn't changed…

I crossed the training bay and retrieved my towel and water bottle from the lone  
bench. With August about ready to give way to September, the outside world was  
hot and muggy, but the Cave remained a tepid sixty-three degrees. My efforts  
over the last hour had left me drenched with sweat and parched. After drying my  
face and quenching my thirst, I looked over to the weight area and watched as  
Bruce effortlessly lifted a pair of fifty pound dumbbells, extending them  
straight out in front of him as he crouched and slowly brought them to his sides  
as he stood straight. His time off had included a fairly regular exercise  
program that I had set up for him but in the last three months he had followed a  
progressive overload to put the bulk back on and the strength back into his  
form.

After watching him do a set of ten reps, I said, "Okay, I'm going to shower and  
head upstairs…" He paid no attention to me and I added even louder, "You know,  
for dinner. With our Family… and we're going to shave Mattie's head after  
dessert."

"Try it," he replied before picking the dumbbells up again.

Smirking, I made my way out of the training bay, I paused when I noticed Alfred  
approaching from the main center of the Cave. "I reminded him… not sure it made  
its way through his ego."

Alfred had nodded curtly before continuing towards Bruce. If anyone could get  
him to take a break, it would be Alfred. I was unable to hear what the  
gentleman's gentleman threatened, but I did hear Bruce's reply, "I'll be up in  
twenty minutes."

As he returned my way, I smirked, "So, Al, how goes the war?"

He looked over my disheveled form in a clear amount of disgust, namely worn  
lycra leggings and sweat stained tank top with my hair arranged in a  
gravity-defying style. I had arrived to Wayne Manor fresh from duty in  
Bludhaven, trading my pristine uniform for attire that was in desperate need of  
an extra rinse cycle, even before I had worked out.

"Swimmingly, sir," he replied, shaking his head slightly.

For so many years Wayne Manor had been home to just him and Bruce. I had come  
along and stayed on for almost a decade and when I had left, Jason had filled  
the void briefly. After he had died at the hands of the Joker, Tim had forced  
his way into our lives but he had stayed next door with his father and step  
mother, leaving it just as it had always been. Just Bruce and Alfred.

In the last year, it had changed once more, but not with the presence of a new  
young boy learning the ropes of being a vigilante. For the first time in nearly  
forty years there was a woman and young infant in the great house. Although it  
brought great joy to our lives, especially Alfred's, it was a still a change  
that needed time to adjust to. I couldn't help but wonder if the older man  
seemed tired from being over worked or if he was getting used to the fact that  
his youngest charge had mastered crawling.

I took a sip of water and then wiped my face with the towel, "So we haven't had  
a family dinner in a while… anything special going on?"

"I haven't the foggiest as to what you are referring to, sir."

I nodded and looked over at Bruce who had traded the pair of dumbbells for the  
leg press, "Selina's not pregnant again, is she?"

Alfred's eyes shot from their sockets before he could control himself, "Heavens  
no, Miss Mattie is quite enough for them to handle at the moment."

I laughed out loud, surprised when Bruce actually looked over at us.

At that, I retreated to the costume vault, passing the locked entrance in order  
to hit the showers. I smiled to see that Alfred had already set out clean  
clothes for me along with putting out a new toothbrush on the small, stainless  
steel sink. After eight minutes of scrubbing, I emerged dressed in dark jeans  
and a fitted charcoal gray tee shirt. Naturally, Bruce was still hard at work,  
the clink and clank of weights echoing in the Cave. Rather than coerce him to  
call it a rest for the night, I bypassed him entirely and made my way to the  
stairs.

There was no point in aggravating him. We all had tried to make his life  
adjustments as quiet as possible over the last few months, especially where it  
concerned his retaking of the role as Batman. Although he had gone into the city  
three times in the last week and a half, he had remained inactive, simply  
touring around in the Mobile or traversing rooftops. The city had been  
relatively quiet, making life easy for the rest of us. Even though I had been  
behind the wheel of the coolest car in Gotham for over a year, Bruce had taken  
over leaving me as the passenger just as I had when I was younger. His eyes had  
remained locked forward as he guided the Briggs-Wayne jet engine powered vehicle  
through the streets of his city...

But he didn't do anything but watch.

I thought back to his return after Bane had broken him, how he had trained under  
Shiva for months before returning to Gotham. And even then he had returned, he  
wouldn't take back the mask from Jean Paul. He simply did as Shiva told him,  
standing on gargoyles as he stared out at the city, taking on her little  
acolytes and getting his mojo back. Selfish on some level, I had hoped that he  
had found whatever he had been looking for, because play time was over.

When I had arrived earlier that evening, Bruce had told me that he was ready. I  
had nodded, not sure what to say to something so unexpected and yet something I  
had anticipated greatly. To prepare, I had already started to phase out of the  
guise of Batman in order to increase my time as Nightwing. With Cass and Tim,  
the city had been taken care of enough so I could actually make the hour trek to  
Bludhaven to remind the citizens they indeed still had their own guardian.

Something I was going to be able to do a hell of a lot more.

Climbing the stairs up towards the Manor, I smiled recalling how Bruce was  
planning on "telling" Jim by simply hsowing up at his office as if nothign had  
happened. Jim, along with the close members of the Family had known about  
Bruce's recovery since day one and but unlike the others, he had not been filled  
in on the plan to return to his former life.

When Barbara told her father that Bruce had remembered, he had instantly asked  
when he was returning as Batman. When, not if.

As much as Jim loved having me around, he missed his friend.

Once in the study, I made my way down the wide corridor, quickly headng towards  
the den. As I neared the archway, I heard giggling, both infantile and  
adolescent. Glancing in before entering, I saw that Tim was scribbling in a text  
book as he sat on the leather couch while Cassandra entertained Mattie on the  
floor. It was always difficult to pass up snooping about the kitchen to see if  
there was a need for dessert taste testing.

It was made easier considering I had a baby sister to play with.

Mattie, dressed in a tiny purple tee shirt and even tinier blue jeans, was  
sitting on Cassandra's lap, gripping onto a plush spotted leopard with her hands  
and mouth. Selina had warned me last week that the teething was in full force  
and to be wary of her chewing on my shirt or ears. Without saying a word, I sat  
next to Cassandra and waved at Mattie as I said her name softly. The child  
bounced and giggled even more, revealing her bottom two teeth.

It was unreal that she was the product of Bruce and Selina's genes, for she  
seemed so carefree and innocent, traits she certainly hadn't inherited. Her dark  
curls were growing daily and Selina was having a hard time convincing Bruce that  
their daughter needed her first hair cut before the end of the year. Perhaps  
that was what bothered me the most, was picturing Bruce as the doting father.  
With me, he had been so awkward that it literally frightened me to see him with  
an infant when he couldn't even pat me on the back without having it feel weird.

But now, he cuddled and rocked and burped and washed and changed and played and  
told stories and sang to and kissed and loved an adorable little person with  
never-ending silver-blue eyes and senseless mumblings.

Then again, who wouldn't?

^V^

I smiled at Dick as he sat beside me, "Want to hold her?"

"Sure," he reached out and carefully picked her up off of my lap. As he held in  
front of his face, he grinned, "Hi, Mattie."

She reached out briefly and touched his face with the tail of the stuffed cat  
then brought it back to her lips.

"Where's mommy, Mattie?" he asked softly.

"Mow."

Dick looked to me and I explained, "Mommy. Or maybe it's meow."

He laughed at that and mewed back at her before arranging Mattie in his lap.

After a moment, I offered, "Selina is in the nursery. Put clothes away."

He looked at me before kissing the top of Mattie's head, "Did you go shopping  
for clothes again? Girl, you are out of control already…"

It had been a fun afternoon, even though I didn't like shopping. Barbara and  
Selina focused mostly on selecting toddler outfits for the fall, shoes for her  
to wear once she learned to walk and pajamas to keep her warm through the  
winter. I had gladly taken the duty of pushing Mattie's stroller, entertaining  
her when she became fussy and even carrying her around a stuffed toy area that  
made her blue eyes widen in wonder.

I had never really had experience with small children, even when I had been one.

Everyone in the Family said I was a natural.

It was nice to be a natural at something that didn't involve violence…

Even though I still lived with Barbara in the Clocktower, I found myself  
spending most of the summer at Wayne Manor for a number of reasons. Aside from  
helping with Mattie, I worked with Bruce as he trained practically nonstop to  
prepare for taking the cowl back. I also worked with Tim, decreasing the amount  
I held back on him while sparring in order to increase his skill.

In whatever time was left, I found myself spending time with Alfred, learning  
about the finer things in life. He often joked that he was going to turn me  
into a proper young lady even if it killed him. After a summer, I learned to  
stomach belches instead of letting them loose, how to properly eat at a formal  
meal and how to make proper introductions. Other than that, not much had taken.

Mattie started to make a move off of Dick's lap and he helped her to sit on the  
floor, "Let's see some of these mad crawling skills in action, monkey."

Leaving the sodden cat behind, she rapidly crawled towards a ball ten feet away.  
Selina said because of all of the time people spent playing with her, she was  
flying through her baby milestones. She had been crawling for over a month, she  
loved banging things to make noise, picking things up with just two fingers and  
could roll over and push herself up to sit on her own. Her language skills were  
coming around as well, she was almost ready to put the parts together to start  
actually communicating instead of just mimicking.

I had told Mattie that there was no rush to learn to speak, that it had nearly  
taken me sixteen years.

As she moved to sit up in order to hold the ball in her lap, I looked to Tim.  
Where I had Barbara as a tutor to cover my studies, Tim had to actually attend  
school. In preparation for juggling his senior year in high school and his  
career as Robin, he had already started reading his fall semester books. I tried  
to not pick on him about it, but it was hard not to.

That afternoon, while he had been reading through his calculus book, I had kept  
him company.

And watched two James Bond movies.

On surround sound.

While eating popcorn.

And two hours later, he was still at it, writing down notes in the margins in  
hopes of learning a semester's worth of mathematics in a single sitting. I  
wanted to tell him to call it quits but I didn't feel it was my place.

As the thought passed through my mind, Dick threw the gnawed on stuffed cat at  
Tim, landing it perfectly in the open book. Tim jerked and looked to us. I  
pointed at Dick and he nudged me, "Way to rat me out."

"Seriously, dude?"

"Seriously, dude yourself," Dick countered as he rose to his feet. You were  
reading that thing when I got here, the whole time I was downstairs… it's  
vacation, bro, act like thus."

Tim carefully picked up the snow leopard and set it on the end table, "I'm  
almost done with linear approximation…"

"Well, you're done now."

We all looked to see Selina standing in the doorway. Although Tim and Dick had  
grown up seeing her as a foe, I had really only known her as a friend. Except  
for Mattie, she was the one that made Bruce happy. And after learning to find my  
own happiness in life, it was nice to see him doing the same.

Even after remembering who he was.

"Dare I ask where he is?" she proposed.

Dick answered, "Alfred's in the kitchen."

Selina smirked as she walked into the room, standing beside Mattie before  
responding, "Thank you, Dick's stomach for your input. I meant where is the  
wayward father of my child?"

I smiled. Dick was usually the one to make jokes but Selina always managed to  
shoot them right back at him. On rare occasions, they would go back and forth  
until Dick backed down. Like the Pong game Barbara played.

Even in her simple attire of a long black skirt and fitted white blouse, I could  
see Catwoman growling underneath her cool exterior. She wasn't angry, but  
clearly upset, if not worried. It had to be difficult, seeing him prepare to  
return to his old life after spending a year with just her. Or maybe she was  
upset because he was putting the mask back on and she wasn't.

Dick explained that he had tried to get Bruce to come upstairs with him but had  
been unsuccessful.

Selina flexed her fingers, her glossy nails catching the overhead lights just  
so.

Where Dick had failed to coerce him, I knew Selina wouldn't.

She promptly left the den, growling under her breath as she stormed off.  
Throughout his recovery, dinners and family time had been important, doing what  
we could to help support him and each other. Since his recovery towards the end  
of May, family had remained important, but had to compete with his drive to  
regain his physical perfection.

The only thing he never balked at was his daughter. He would drop anything to  
spend time with her, something that brought deep-seated jealousy out in the  
physical language of both Dick and Tim. They had been at his side longer than I,  
earning the respect of our mentor over years of dedicated work.

All Mattie had to do was smile.

When I had first met Batman, I had known him to be a dark and aggressive being,  
one who thrived on the image he portrayed along with the skills he had to back  
it up. Although the others seemed to think that the last year had brought out  
the man who had been trapped inside, I had seen it long before.

I had seen it when he had taken me aside during No Man's Land, quizzing me to  
see if I knew any spoken or signed language. When nothing had clicked, he had  
resorted to performing a kata, of which I matched perfectly, movement for  
movement, I finally had been able to communicate with him by drawing in the  
dirt, creating symbols for Barbara and Commissioner Gordon to demonstrate that  
they were father and daughter. I had then drawn the symbols used by my  
biological father David Cain and related the relationship to him and myself.

The sadness in his eyes had said the man had been there all along, he was just  
hiding behind a mask.

It was nice to see him no longer hiding, no longer keeping everything tucked  
away.

Something I had learned to do, as well.

^V^

I heard Selina's heels clicking on the granite steps long before I saw her.

At the rate of frequency, I could tell she was angry, aggressively striking the  
ground with her feet. The last I had known, it was fifteen of seven but that  
could have easily been twenty minutes ago. Funny how time flies when you were  
bench pressing your own body weight.

My eyes straight up at the cavern's ceiling, I spotted Selina approaching in my  
peripheral vision. Her stride was still fast and furious, but not loud enough to  
cover her grumbling, "… thinks he can play down here all night… I think not…  
Immature, pompous…"

As she stood beside me, glaring down at me over crossed arms, I simply stated,  
"Wait."

She watched on silently as I completed a final set of reps, forcing the weight  
back into the rack with a little more effort than I would have preferred. As I  
sat up, flexing my wrists and popping my neck simultaneously, I then said,  
"What?"

"What?" she echoed impatiently, "How about there is a full house upstairs and  
yet you remain down here, all by your lonesome?"

To say that my seemingly nonstop efforts to get life back on track had been  
without consequence would have been an outright lie. For a year, I had only  
lived the life of Bruce Wayne, spending time with family and friends, asking the  
love of his life to marry him and welcoming their firstborn child into the  
world. That role had been complicated slightly by taking up responsibilities in  
the public eye, resuming fairly trivial duties at Wayne Enterprises.

All that had changed the second my entire life came back to me, flashing in  
rapid fire before my very eyes.

Adding a third life to the mix, the violent one of Batman, had set things off  
kilter. Even without completely returning to the cowl, the changes were  
blatantly noticeable. I had tried my best to keep the grunts, cold looks and  
obsessive behaviors contained but they had bubbled over after being kept in  
confinement for a year. Selina had broached the subject with me numerous times  
over the last three months, claiming the change had been so sudden in me that it  
was almost scary.

The others had seen it too but she had been the only brave enough to come  
forward.

Whether they had been scared to or wanted to avoid upsetting me…

"I'll be up in a few minutes," I replied, rising from the bench. Without pausing  
to receive her reply, I walked over to the metal bar that was mounted eight feet  
up into the rock of the cavern. I jumped up and began to do my chin ups as,  
ignoring her gaze.

I knew she was uncomfortable with how I had decided to return to my work,  
especially how soon after my recovery. We fought more, she sighed when I finally  
climbed into bed instead of rolling over to face me and what little time I spent  
with her, most of it was focused on Mattie. Deep down, I felt that she wanted us  
to live happily ever after, without nights waiting for me to come home, dead or  
alive. As much as I hated the looks she gave me, I knew she also loved me and  
supported my choice as much as she could.

Just as she had throughout my entire recovery.

A year lost forever as I had regained my basic life skills. My life had been  
intermittently been replaced by a far kinder, gentler man, one who wasn't afraid  
to laugh or cry. Upon regaining my memories, I had been able to see all of the  
changes my injury had brought to our Family. Not only had I found the courage to  
propose to Selina, but I had never been closer to her, Barbara and Dick. The  
youngest members had been the ones to distance themselves, trying to wait it out  
until I "returned".

But they had been there that night, they had seen it happen, seen my proverbial  
demise. The night I jumped in front of Gordon, taking those bullets at  
point-blank, had been the death of Batman. His blood had seeped out onto the  
pavement and his soul was lost.

He was about to be resurrected.

Although I had disclosed it to the others, I hadn't told Selina that I was  
actually returning that night. I had tried to, a number of times throughout the  
day but a pained look would fall across her face and deter me. She thought it  
was just going to be another night out with Dick on patrols, but I had much more  
planned. My comeback would be ferocious in order to remind the underworld of my  
city that its protector was unpredictable and would reach out at any time to any  
one of them.

As I had told Dick, expect the unexpected.

Then again, we hadn't spent that much time together, save for breakfast with  
Mattie, lunch downtown and briefly when I had returned from work. She had been  
shopping with Barbara and Cassandra that afternoon to get some new clothes for  
our rapidly growing child. When they had left, Mattie was excited to be going  
out with her mother and had been a handful to get into her car seat.

Selina had joked that it was a sign for when she was going to be a teenager  
spending her weekends wiht my Black AMEX card at the mall.

I small smile crept onto my lips as Selina approached me, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes, something I had learned long ago as an indicator that  
there were devious thoughts on her mind. Without warning, Selina smiled  
affectionately and widened her green eyes after a few blinks. Before I could  
make a move to jump down from the chin up bar, I felt newly manicured nails  
scratching my bare feet.

"Bruce, if you are not showered and upstairs in the next ten minutes, I have a  
very bad feeling that you may be sleeping alone tonight."

I dropped to the floor, keeping a solemn look on my face, "Is that so?"

She nodded knowingly and then looked at her watch. I stepped closer and looked  
at her watch's face as well, "That's ten minutes fast."

"So?"

"So you can't time with that, no matter how fast I go, I'd still be late."

"He foiled my evil plan yet again," she said dramatically. When I leaned in to  
kiss her, she shook her head, "Shower first, love later."

"Yes, dear."

She kissed my cheek and then walked away. I looked back to the training bay  
briefly and I heard her call, "Nine minutes, Bruce!"

I was showered in three minutes and then half dried and dressed in another  
three. Before heading to the granite steps, I ran my hands through my cropped  
hair, trying to ignore the gray at my temples and roots that hadn't been there a  
year earlier. I had made the mistake of having it cut shorter than usual in the  
beginning of June, revealing more light hair intermixed with the dark.

Stress and near death experiences tended to do that…

The whole gag about "sleeping alone" had started a two months earlier as a joke,  
when Dick had made a sly comment that Selina was going to make me sleep on the  
couch one of these nights. Somehow, it had developed into an actual threat when  
she had made up the couch in the main den for me to sleep on after one  
particularly hectic day. One I had failed to show up for our dinner date because  
I had been training with Dick…

With forty-six seconds to spare, I passed through the grandfather clock  
entrance, straightening my shirt sleeves as it shut behind me. Walking briskly,  
I strode down the wide corridor and towards the dining room. Voices had brought  
life once more to the old halls of the mansion and laughter renewed its  
vitality. Hell, it renewed my vitality.

The double doors were open and I found everyone had already found their seats.  
Before being shot, family dinners were so rare they were practically myths. Even  
on holidays, we barely found the time to come together. Now, rarely a week  
passed when we didn't all break bred with one another. Regrettably, Jim and  
Barbara had not been able to make the trek u, promising to be up the following  
week.

I smiled to see Selina was getting Mattie into her high chair as it sat between  
her chair and mine, of which was often a feat considering our daughter preferred  
to sit on someone's lap. Next to Selina sat Dick, seemingly occupied with a  
hushed argument with Tim who sat across from him. Cassandra had been watching on  
with amusement, although choosing to not partake in the sophomoric behavior.  
After decades of refusing to join us for meals, Alfred readily took a seat with  
us, mostly to supervise the feeding of his youngest charge.

He had outdone himself with eggplant and chicken parmesan over steaming pasta.  
Mattie herself even had a small portion of an appropriately smashed chicken and  
diced noodles. Since she had started on solids, Alfred had refused to let her be  
dependent on baby food and insisted on making her meals specifically. Even  
though he toned done some of his more extravagant culinary works, Mattie had yet  
to refuse any of his dishes.

Taking my seat, I smirked at Selina who simply tapped her watch and shook her  
head. Before I could defend myself, chatter began as the music of dishware. As  
always, I went about feeding Mattie before taking my own meal. She was still  
getting the idea of hand feeding herself and thought that her tiny blue plastic  
spoon worked better as an musical instrument. I found myself intently focused on  
her, blocking out the words of others and the looks they briefly sent towards  
me. It was one of the few moments of my day where there was nothing else in the  
world but my daughter.

Selina offered, "Bruce, I'll help her finish."

I shook my head, "No, she's okay," I leaned towards Mattie and offered her a bit  
of my garlic bread and she thanked me by planting her marinara sauce covered  
hand on my nose.

Selina smiled and reached over with her napkin to wipe Mattie's hands while I  
cleaned off my nose. I stopped when I heard Dick and Tim snorting quietly.

I glanced over at them, "Laugh it up, boys."

"Sorry…" Dick wiped his own mouth, "It's just… you missed a spot."

Selina saved me, reaching over and wiping the last dollop off of my face. I let  
Mattie play with what was left, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she  
fed herself small pieces. She often mimicked what she saw and heard, especially  
during large dinners. If no one acknowledged her, Mattie would ramble louder,  
sometimes banging on the tray of her high chair or throwing her sippie cup.

I assumed it was her busy day out on the town that had left her fairly quiet,  
leaving her content enough to listen as Dick quizzed Tim on calculus. Having  
worked diligently over the summer to get a head start on his studies, Tim rolled  
his eyes and stuffed his face to avoid answering. Although he had one last year  
in high school, he had convinced his father to let him leave Brentwood Academy  
in order to graduate from Bristol's Washington High School. And, it provided him  
ample time to tour the streets of Gotham.

It had been difficult for him especially, seeing me recover from my injuries  
dealt by Pasqualle. He had been there, along with Alfred, when I had fallen to  
Bane a few years earlier, something neither of them should have had to endure  
again. If anything, it had been worse, having lost the use of my mind instead of  
my body. Since I had recovered, he had been bathed in relief, but there was  
still a fraction of him that was different.

Something that I knew would never be the same.

Towards the end of dinner, I zoned out again, watching on as Selina removed  
Mattie from her chair and held her on her lap. Now sitting in proximity of the  
table, Mattie's fingers grasped the linen before moving onto more interesting  
objects, such as a piece of garlic bread. She mouthed it for a moment before  
mock feeding her mother. Selina realized I was watching her and smiled at me,  
directing Mattie's gaze over as well.

I would never dream of hurting her. Nor my daughter. Our daughter.

And yet in two hours I was returning to the lifestyle that had nearly killed me  
so many times, not just when Pasqualle shot me. With the plague, Ra's, Bane, the  
Joker and my erratic mistakes as a youth…

How many nights had I spent with Alfred dragging my stumbling body to the  
medical bay?

Too many.

I had learned at a young age that the it wasn't about the well being of your  
life, but preserving that of others. My father had taught me such strong morals  
not only in the words he had read to me, but when he sacrificed his personal  
life to save those that were hurt and dying. My final lesson had been when he  
stepped in front of me in that a alleyway and sacrificed his life for mine.

I had spent my life dedicating myself to that idea, that I was supposed to  
protect the innocent, no matter what the cost.

My face must have grown somber with my thoughts for Selina reached out and  
touched my arm. Her face was faintly expressive with her underlying concern,  
"Bruce?"

I smiled and took her hand into mine, "I'm fine."

And I was.

^V^

Although a quiet smile had found its way to my lips as I tended to the kitchen,  
I still found myself battling dread.

The night before, Master Bruce and I had shared a lengthy conversation in the  
study. He had just returned from a brief, inactive tour of the city, making his  
way back to the Manor a little before one in the morning. Throughout his  
recovery, I had made time to at least once a week allow him to vent and get any  
concerns off of his burdened shoulders. Since the end of May, it had seemed that  
every other night I found him thinking aloud to me, looking for guidance and  
reassurance.

Something he had only looked for at the beginning of his career as a vigilante.

In a way, it was if he was starting anew. Taking the cowl after Jean Paul had  
bastardized it several years ago, Master Bruce had in all senses been the same  
as when he had last worn it. Perhaps a bit more cautious and slightly more  
hesitant, but that all had faded with time. The changes in his mind that had  
taken place in his sabbatical were far more definitive and far more troublesome.

It had been fairly expected considering his life's dependency on the cowl, but  
his decision to return seemed to have come so quickly. Three months since he  
regained his memories and he was prepared to take on the night once more. To my  
surprise, upon delivering the news to me, he had continued, thoroughly  
explaining his concerns for Ms. Kyle and his daughter.

In his past years as the caped crusader, he had only himself to worry for and  
those of his allies. He had never had to worry about those waiting for him at  
home. He had never anticipated risking his life each night while having a woman  
to share his life with in addition to a child to raise. Master Bruce had also  
admitted that he feared what it would do to the relationships he had developed  
over the last year with his protégés.

Master Bruce had come to the realization that people actually cared for him,  
that he was indeed loved by others and loved them in return.

Over the last three months, we had a number of discussions about the three lives  
he lead as opposed to the two he had juggled before being shot. At first, he had  
been worried for how it would affect his life as the Batman but I was quick to  
point him in the right direction.

"Master Bruce," I had offered several weeks earlier, "If I may be so bold to  
suggest that perhaps the lives of Bruce Wayne the billionaire may converge with  
that of Bruce Wayne the family man, thus eliminating the need for … the fop, so  
to speak."

Incidentally, it had been wise advice, as he had proceed to mature his public  
image, subtracting all of the erratic behaviors that had marred his name and  
replaced them with outings with his new family. He had made an announcement  
about his engagement to Ms. Selina and she was always at his side for events. He  
had been worried at first about ruining his efforts to distance Bruce Wayne from  
being Batman, but he was quick to see that the focus of family had been more  
than enough to keep his identity safe.

If only he had realized it years ago…

"Hey, Al, you in here?" Master Dick's voice broke my reverie.

"But of course, sir." I turned briefly to see him entering the kitchen, carrying  
the last of the dishes from the dining room. I had always tried to maintain an  
established lineation between myself and my charges, a line Master Dick sought  
to cross on a daily basis.

"This is the last of it… except Mattie's spoon. I tried to take it away from her  
but she screamed at me."

"She is certainly set in her ways," I smirked as I took the dishes from him.

"Just like Momma… and Poppa…" he sighed as he leaned against the counter. After  
a moment, I handed him a clean colander and he promptly dried it with the had  
towel sitting behind him.

Four dessert plates later, he asked, "Did Bruce tell you? About tonight?"

I nodded slowly, "Yes, we spoke last evening."

Two coffee cups and saucers, then, "You think he's ready, Alfred?"

I cleared my throat before replying, "I do believe it has been you that has been  
there for his conditioning…"

"I know. And he is, I mean… He's in perfect physical condition, his reaction  
times are still better than mine… But I don't know if… I'm sorry, it just feels  
like it's too soon."

When I looked up from the sink, I nearly smirked to see he was spinning a saucer  
on his pinkie, but the frown on his face stopped me. He paused, grabbed the  
plate and promptly set it down. Offering him the empty carafe, I said, "Master  
Dick, you have every right to be concerned… the last time he wore that mask, we  
nearly lost him, and letting him put the cowl back on, we risk losing him once  
again."

Master Dick bit his lower lip as he set the carafe on the countertop, "But it's  
the same risk that was there before. Every night we set foot out there, there  
was always a chance we weren't going to come back home."

"But the risk is different now. You are closer to him than you have ever been,  
sir. There is more to lose."

After a moment he turned to leave, pausing when I said, "If it is any comfort,  
Master Dick, you must remember that it is not that he's lost any of his  
abilities… but more that you have gained them."

Finally, a real smile graced his lips, "Thanks, Al."

Knowing that he would be joining Master Bruce and Tim along with Miss Cassandra  
in the Cave, I sought out the remaining individuals in the Manor. Ms. Selina had  
taken young Miss Mattie into the den, long since baby proofed and safe for the  
young child to crawl about. I found that Miss Mattie had taken to laying on the  
floor with a stuffed tiger while her mother had opted to sit nearby on the  
couch.

She glanced up as I entered the room, "And then there were two."

"Two and a half," I smirked while nodding towards Miss Mattie.

Where Master Bruce and his protégés were wary of his return to the mantle, their  
concerns were focused on whether or not he was up to the challenge after so much  
time away. Ms. Selina was upset, but for entirely different and certainly  
justifiable reasons. Although she had given up her criminal ways before Master  
Bruce had been shot by Henri Pasqualle, she had still lived an active night  
life, acting as her own brand of vigilante in the East End. Upon learning of her  
beau's fate and of her own pregnancy, she had hung up her cowl and claws for the  
time being, willing to set it aside for the sake of family.

And rather than match her efforts, Master Bruce had not showed the slightest  
hesitation in preparing to don his once more.

Having grown considerably closer to her in the last two years , I had learned to  
read her fairly well. Seeing her seated on the couch, legs tucked up underneath  
her as she stared sadly down at her daughter suggested she was troubled, worried  
to be exact.

"May I join you?"

She forced a warm smile to her lips, "Of course."

Taking a seat in an adjacent chair, Miss Mattie spotted me and promptly crawled  
over, setting her tiny, pudgy hand on my shoe before continuing onward.

I had been about to make a remark on her daughter in hopes to distract her, but  
Ms. Selina spoke, "Well, I hope you're ready for a late night, Alfred."

"I beg your pardon, madam?"

Ms. Selina sat back into the couch with a heavy sigh, "Bruce is diving head  
first into it tonight… Figured he'll come home needing a few dozen stitches."

"He does have an… off way of celebrating."

She smirked at that before asking, "How did you did you do it, Alfred? All those  
years of waiting for him to come home."

I had never been asked that particular question before; therefore there was no  
answer in preparation for it. "My dear," I said softly, "At first it was  
unbearable, especially when he came home each evening brandished with some new  
wound. But over time, the worry lessened as he grew more confident in his ways.  
However, I did read many books waiting for him."

"You read to occupy the time?"

"Indeed, madam. At first, I read in the Cave and awaited his return. Then, I  
read in the study outside of the entrance. Eventually, I found myself reading in  
my bed."

"But didn't you want to know when he got home?"

I smiled, "Well, after several years, he installed a tone to sound when he  
returned although I never really paid it any attention, unless it was set to  
indicate an alert. Long before that, I always knew when he arrived as I would  
listen to four distinct sounds in a certain order each night to be sure all was  
well."

Just like Master Dick had moments earlier, she seemed to genuinely smile.

"First, there would be sounds in the kitchen and since Master Bruce is weak in  
the stealth department at four in the morning, they were usually rather clear to  
detect. Next would be his footsteps on the stairs. Every third one or so creaks.  
Then would be him clearing his throat, which for some reason he tends to do at  
the top of the stairs, where he is equidistant from both his room and mine."

Ms. Kyle inquired, "And the last one?"

"Either the sound of his wretched snoring or the water running from his bathroom  
pipes."

She laughed softly and replied, "Well, I'll have to try that."

Having appeased as many members of the Family as I could, I regrettably found my  
own fears were still running strong, knowing that even with his experience,  
Master Bruce's hiatus would surely affect his abilities.

Ms. Selina had been correct, he would no doubt require some level of medical  
attention upon his return in the late hours of the night. However, they would be  
injuries as a result of carelessness, but of a twisted ritual he often noted to  
be a baptism of sorts. It renewed his energy, thriving on pain as he carried out  
his work. Many a time I had stitched his flesh together as he retold tales of  
triumph over hordes of evildoers. I made it a point not to use anesthetics when  
he was proud about his injuries.

Ms. Selina's eyes had suddenly flashed to the massive bay windows and my gaze  
ascended to the night sky as well, where the Signal shone brightly.

Evildoers beware, the Dark Knight hath returned.

^V^


	2. Life Is Good: II

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.

^V^

Maybe it was because I was standing thirty stories above Kramer Avenue, but for the end of August, it sure felt like the end of fall as the winds whipped my cape around.

After a fine Pennyworth dinner, something that I looked forward to after suffering Dana's concoctions all week long, Cass and I had headed down to the Cave. After a quick stretch and spar, I went about fueling up the cycles and the Mobile while Cass made her way to the costume vault. I joined her after ten minutes, donning my attire while she was preoccupied with stocking up her utility belt. Nearly an hour later after we had passed through the entrance, we had still been waiting for Dick and Bruce to make an appearance.

Most nights, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but ever minute that had ticked by had been torture.

Then again, it wasn't like most nights…

A year earlier, I had never thought that he would have been able to take back the cowl, let alone accomplish half of things he had. After being shot, I had accepted that his life as Batman had come to end, that the man I had grown up next door to and the hero I had worshipped was gone forever. Whether it was for better or worse, he had recovered and although the others seemed to think that it had happened in the blink of an eye, it hadn't. It had taken an entire year of him battling the odds, learning how to talk and read and walk all over again.

At first, I had been brave enough to help where I could, but as he grew into his new life and started acting completely different from the Bruce I had known, I had instinctually withdrawn. I had hated myself for it, for turning my back on him when he had needed me the most. To justify it, I had told myself that he had the support of everyone else, that they were better adjusted to his personality changes and were more capable of stepping up to the plate.

When he had finally recovered from the amnesia, he had sat me down to discuss all that had happened, something the real Bruce would have never done. I had used it as a confessional, letting loose all of the self-loathing thoughts I had been plagued with for months. Bruce had listened quietly and rather than tell me to push passed my fears and grow up, he had been understanding and even sympathetic. Bruce was back, but in a way, the other man that had lived in his body had stayed put. In the end, he had set a hand on my shoulder and told me that my reactions had been acceptable, given how young I was and how much I had endured in my short time with the Family.

He had forgiven me, but it still hadn't made me feel any less of a jerk.

After a summer of training with Dick and Cass, he had sat us down to explain his plan to return. How he needed time to adjust to the routine again and to immerse himself in the feel of the city. I had expected him to simply throw the mask on and beat the pulp out of every criminal in Gotham in a single night, but he had opted for the more cautious approach, preparing for what was to come. I had seen it before, when he had prepared to reclaim the cowl from Jean Paul, although this time there wasn't going to be a power struggle.

My eyes looked down at the street below, spotting all of the Gothamites enjoying their Friday night. For Tri-Corner, things were still pretty active, people dining inside and out of restaurants and bars while others made early evening commutes through the borough and towards the Theatre District. And then there were just the regular city people walking about, who never seemed to go anywhere at all. And of course, watching them from thirty stories up were the protectors. The vigilantes. Gotham's saviors.

Batgirl had been unwilling to sit and wait, opting to head south into the Bowery. I had checked in with Barbara ten minutes earlier and found out that she had already called in five pickups in less than an thirteen minutes. The thought of racing on foot after street thugs made my stomach turn as I was still digesting chicken parm and two slices of banana split cake.

At least I wasn't alone, I thought as I felt an elbow jab my arm.

"Think he's getting cold feet?" Nightwing asked as he pointed directly across the street at Gotham City Police headquarters.

Dick had somehow managed to channel Batman so well for so long that I had nearly forgotten who he was supposed to be under a mask. Having him acclimate to Nightwing had reminded me once again me just how different things had been. As he had started to don the black and blue suit more and more, I was amazed to see him shed the darkness that the cowl had cloaked him in.

The signal had flashed on our way into Gotham, leading us directly to GCPD instead of splitting up for patrols. While Cass and I had come down on the cycles, Dick had opted to once again ride along with Bruce in the Mobile. Once the light had seared the sky, the mobile had taken off, doubling the speed limit as it raced towards the St. James parkway. Cass and I had to dodge in and out of evening commuters just to keep up, resorting to using the shoulder and even outracing a state trooper. I knew Dick had wanted it to be a nice, quiet night for Bruce to get his feet wet but Gotham had decided to throw him back into the deep end. And truth be told, it was probably what Bruce preferred.

I squinted to see that Batman stood behind the spotlight, waiting for the opportune moment to make his presence known. On the other side, Gordon stood with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving the sky. The signal had only gone off a handful of times while Dick was in cowl, before and after he had confessed everything to Gordon. Even though he knew Bruce had recovered, he had no way of knowing what Batman was going to answering the call…

"Oh, there he goes," Nightwing said softly, his voice tinted with excitement.

Batman had moved from behind the spotlight, his cape billowing behind him. Regrettably, he blocked Gordon with his form and we were left wondering.

"Damnit," Nightwing sighed, "He never lets us have any fun…" Nightwing picked up a few chipped pieces of gravel off of the roof and began to juggle them slowly.

Physically, he had been in top condition since July, his combat skills were razor sharp and his deductive mind was clear as crystal. He'd studied every case that Dick and I dealt with while he was out of commission and had even solved a few that we weren't able to. However, his determination had not been without a cost. Before, he had only needed to worry about balancing his own two lives. Now, Bruce had Selina and Mattie.

Physically, mentally and rationally he was Batman.

But maybe he wasn't emotionally…

His split life between Bruce Wayne and Batman had always worried me. Dick had managed to maintain distinct and separate lives, but they both shared common characteristics. As Tim Drake and Robin, I was able to exhibit similar qualities as well, just in different quantities. And for Cass, she reminded me of the obsessed Bruce I had briefly known who had dedicated everything to the cowl.

I was about to contact Oracle to see if she had been able to unblock Batman's comm. link but was distracted when Batgirl suddenly appeared beside me.

"Showoff," I muttered.

"Muggers," she replied softly, "Nothing fancy."

"What'd you do with them?" Nightwing asked as he added another two cement bits to his juggling.

"Trashed them."

I smiled. She had seen Bruce throw street scum in garbage dumpsters a while back and had been quite taken by the concept. Now, she regularly threw those she deemed worthy into dumpsters after giving them a good beating. I had tried to tell her there were better calling cards then leaving the suspects amongst bags of used diapers and inedible food but she seemed to think it was the best.

Nightwing rose suddenly, allowing his entertainment to fall to the roof. I followed his gaze, finding Batman was on the ledge preparing a grapple. It connected solidly with the stonework ten feet away and he soared effortlessly across, retracting the line with timing mastered long ago. When he landed on the rooftop, a few feet away from us, I nearly smirked seeing the familiar grim look on his face.

Watch out Gotham. Here we come.

^V^

I had just dared to call it a night when the phone on my desk came to life, yielding a call from Arkham. Although I had tried to listen intently to the voice on the other end, my focus was cut off after the words, "… Harvey Dent has escaped."

For two years, we had gone without incident at Arkham Asylum, finally putting faith into all of the security measures that had been finally upgraded. No breakouts, no riots, nothing but blissful order and peace for the incarcerated, criminally insane. All of the motion sensors temperature sensitive floor tiles in the world couldn't prevent a gambling addicted security guard from accepting a hefty bribe from the former district attorney.

At ten of eight that evening, Harvey Dent was safe in the confines of a psychiatric institution that was often mocked for having a revolving door.

At ten after eight, he was presumed to be at large and was to be considered extremely dangerous.

What a way to start the weekend…

After hanging up abruptly with the director of security at Arkham, I had immediately called into dispatch to have every available officer sent out to start canvassing the area. As with many inmate escapes from the facility, we rarely publicized it in the first fours hours, waiting to see if an apprehension could be made in order to limit the panic. My next act had been to race to the rooftop of GCPD, throwing the switch on the spotlight. Illuminating the signal brought back thousands of memories of waiting for my old friend on hot summer nights and blistery winter eves. If I allowed myself to think back too far, I would have recalled meeting with Batman and Harvey Dent, coming together in order to bring down the mob.

If I had allowed myself, that was.

Batman's response rate was around sixty percent, not out of apathy but simply because whatever I had needed him for, he had already known about it.

In the last year however, it had risen to ninety-two percent.

Bruce's eldest had done a superior job keeping the city safe during his convalescence. It had only been a few months since I had learned of Bruce's full recovery, but I was fairly certain it would be much longer before he personally answered the Signal. Not only was he occupied with work and coming to terms with what had happened, but he was learning to adapt to family life as well. I had visited the Manor a number of times throughout the summer, relieved to finally see the look of recognition in his eyes. At social functions, he once more had a beautiful woman on his arm although for the first time it wasn't for show.

He wasn't pretending to be happy, he finally was.

After all he had suffered, he would have to think long and hard before giving that up.

Standing on the rooftop, eyes skyward, I tried not to think about the faces behind the masks and attempted to focus on the task he would be facing. Dick's revealing their identities to me had certainly been off of the path his mentor had followed for over a decade. Having already lied to me that the original Batman had died from his injuries months earlier, the young man had been unable to stomach the guilt any longer. Even after years of theories and musings, it had still been a shock, finally being able put a human face to those that had been covered.

That had been the difference between Dick and Bruce, he cared about how they would be hurt emotionally instead of just physically.

The fluttering of a cape caught my attention. I knew it wouldn't be the Batman that I had been with since the beginning, from the Chelsea Hotel to the earthquake that leveled the city. And although his eldest protégé had done more than his share of work in the last year, I couldn't help but long for a night when I would turn around and see my old friend once more.

Each time that I had called forth his son in order to help the city, I had lost more faith in his return. Giving up on the closest friend I had after he had given up so much for me…

The wind had picked up considerably, causing my slacks to flutter and my tie to take flight. I heard his footsteps softly approaching, letting me know he was there. Another thing his mentor had never-.

"Jim."

That was something Dick had never done, he had always referred to me as the Commissioner. Or Sir.

Turning slowly, I found myself only able to take two strides towards him, my eyes never leaving his face. I swore his lip twitched in the hint of a smile.

It was him.

It couldn't be…

"Batman?" I asked stupefied.

Without waiting a beat, he inquired in a low gravelly tone, "What have you got, Jim?"

With a smile breaking on my face, I shook my head in disbelief. Gone from his city for over a year and he was back as if it had been a mere weekend. There was nothing more that I wanted to do but ask him how long he had been back without my knowing but I knew he wouldn't answer. Not on a rooftop, not like that. I had never met a man that made so little sense while at the same time being the most logical individual in the world.

A hard swallow sent my heart back down my throat and into my chest. After another moment of simply staring in awe, I answered him, "Two-Face escaped from Arkham. They called me directly instead of dispatch."

He growled, barely able to put the words into an actual sentence, "How long?"

"Over an hour. He bribed a guard to let him loose, somehow got his hands on some serious cash."

"Any casualties?"

I shook my head, "No, thank goodness. I know he has had no communication privileges for nearly a month, so whatever he arranged, it's been a long time in the making. I have Special Crimes already reviewing all of his telephone calls and correspondence before they were revoked. Last I knew, most of his flunkies were still in Blackgate."

"His last escape was two years ago, some of them would be on parole by now."

"For what, good behavior?" I sighed, letting my eyes finally drift from his face and towards the city skyline, "I'll have them review that as well… He's been out for an hour it's already a damned nightmare… I've got every available unit out there, knocking on doors, scanning lots, patrolling the streets…"

"And now you have us."

When I looked back to him, he was already gone.

Naturally, some things never changed.

^V^

"Damnit," I muttered as I spilled coffee on the counter of my workstation.

My day had being going swimmingly. I hadn't made it to bed until after four in the morning, brought on by my inability to turn down an request from J'onn J'onnz. It hadn't been much, just to fix a programming error on the surveillance feeds in the monitor womb of the Watchtower. Instead of automatically bringing up media coverage on specifically targeted names and places, it was turning on to MTV. I had a feeling that Wally and Roy had something to do with it but I had kept my mouth shut.

Following a fitful five hours of sleep, I woke with a headache, reminding me that I drank too much coffee and not enough water. From there, it seemed to be one thing that went wrong after another. My vacuum cleaner broke while I was cleaning the living room, my washer refused to cycle completely with a load of towels in it and when I went to run some errands around town, my check engine light came on.

With Cassandra in the training bay pretending to clean and Dick in Bludhaven working the beat, I had turned to the next best person to vent to. I had been pleased when Selina told me to drop all of the things I felt I had to do and come with her for a day on the town. What had started out as a miserable morning quickly gave way to a pleasant afternoon, shopping for baby and grown up clothes and lunch at Bitto's, both on Bruce's tab.

Much better than taking my vacuum apart and trying to put it back together…

Although I had been invited to dinner at the Manor, I just couldn't motivate myself to make the trip out to Bristol and then back to get ready for the night's activities. Dick had promised to bring home some of Alfred's fine cuisine but I had told him not to bother and that I would settle on leftover Thai from the night before. He had then informed me that he planned on suiting up at the Cave and heading down in the Mobile with Bruce. A ride that must of turned very interesting when the Signal flared over the city skyline.

I had been in the process of warming up my computer for the night when an alarm had gone off indicating the use of the Signal. The network instantly scanned all major and minor frequencies for police and emergency dispatch calls. When nothing came up, I couldn't help but let a cold feeling settle in my gut, knowing it was standard protocol to keep singular asylum escapees on the down low. I tentatively worked my way into the security network at Arkham Asylum, my fears actualized upon discovering they were under lockdown after being unable to account for Harvey Dent.

While waiting for any verbal responses on the comm. link, I made a quick trek to the kitchen of my apartment to prepare for a long night. Returning with my coffee to the work station, I was pleased to find that signal had finally shut off, announcing that Batman had reached his destination. Again, the dark knight that loomed over the city of Gotham at present wasn't the one who left the commissioner waiting without reason.

Surrounded by the hum of electricity, I noted that the previously blocked comm. link was open and promptly asked, "Quite the night we have in store, hunh, pointy ears?"

"What did you just call me?" a dark and cold voice replied.

Feeling the heat of embarrassment wash over me, I quickly corrected myself, "I thought Dick was-."

Batman replied curtly, "I want lists of recent associates, hideouts, everything you have on him. I want it yesterday."

"Will do." I closed the connection and allowed myself to blush while I switched over to Nightwing's line.

His laughter filled my speakers, "You called him 'Pointy Ears'! Babs, you crack me up."

"Shut up. It was an honest mistake."

"Yes, indeed, almighty Oracle who knows all."

I left him in silence, which encouraged him to drop the subject. He sighed as he began to move on foot, "Sorry. But you should have seen his face… And Robin's still giggling."

From the diligent work of my fingertips, my monitor flooded with lists and files on Harvey Dent. Last known cohorts, locations, hideouts and unfinished plans, along with possible targets both physical and human. For Harvey, everything had always been based around duality, often with a touch of justice added in for good measure. A vast majority of Harvey's efforts had been directed more towards Bruce over the years, expected considering they had once been crusaders for Gotham. I still recalled Dad talking about Harvey, before and after he had been scarred.

Bruce hadn't been the only one who lost a friend in that courtroom.

Not only was the former District Attorney stricken with disassociate identity issues, he still retained the cunning intelligence that had once helped him get Gotham on the right track. He also knew how to rub Bruce the wrong way, how to hit him where it hurt the most. In Dick's first year as Robin, Harvey had kidnapped Batman and a judge, hanging them up in nooses in order to force Robin to decide who lived and who died. Too much of a novice to see passed Harvey's wordplay, Robin had been fooled and lied to, ending with the judge dying and Batman to watch helplessly as his young partner was nearly beaten to death.

Although where having the Joker or Zsasz loose on the streets of Gotham meant that hundreds or even thousands of lives were danger, Harvey was more apt to focus on particular victims. With his trusty silver dollar aiding in his selection, his scaled down schemes were as meticulously planned as they were executed. In the madness of No Man's Land, when he had felt betrayed by my father, Harvey had put him on trial in the dilapidated court house. With the intervention of the ever loyal Renee Montoya, Harvey had eventually put himself on the witness stand, mercilessly interrogating himself until finding the defendant not guilty.

With Bruce back in the cowl, it was only fitting that one of his oldest friends and enemies had decided to make a comeback as well.

Focusing on the work at hand, I skimmed the material on the screen, "All right, Night-light, I've got about thirty possible hideouts, mostly defunct businesses, but only a dozen are ideal for Harvey, especially considering he will need to have easy access to rounding up thugs and money."

"Lay them on me, sugar."

"All right, Deuces Wild Club, Two to Tango… and Gemini Loans, all in the East End, notorious for shady business dealings…"

"What do these people do, name their places so he can use them as hideouts… Come to Tony's Two Timing Café, used and abused by Harvey Dent…"

I smiled and continued listing them, simultaneously sending addresses to the computers in their respected vehicles. Given that there were four of them, it would be easier to canvass the city and bring Harvey back into custody before he was too reacquainted with society. He had been incarcerated since No Man's Land and after three years in confinement, he was certainly going to want to stretch his legs and put his coin to use.

With the quips out of my system, I opened the line with Bruce, "Boss?"

Although he had literally just received a list of possible locations and had only been suited up for running on thirty-five minutes, he curtly replied, "It's not the building on Essex. Get me a twenty on Lyle."

Although I had a general idea as to where the former Two-Face thug turned snitch might have been, I noted, "It's going to take a minute, he doesn't exactly keep in touch."

Click.

With the speakers silent, I muttered, "Welcome back."

^V^

I rocked slowly in the nursery's chair as Mattie alternated between whining and wailing in my ear.

Naturally, having your teeth rip through your gums was painful, but after a two weeks of vicious teething, my nerves were rattled. Of course, the night I was alone she was inconsolable and crying endlessly. A little after eleven, Alfred had come up to check on us but I had assured him we were okay after nearly convincing myself that my daughter was finally settling down.

That was until I had laid her in the crib.

We had just finished walking the halls for a half of an hour, something Bruce had always done to help her sleep. Apparently, even that wasn't what she needed as her cries only echoed the expansive corridors. Not wanting to wake Alfred, I had returned to the third floor nursery, reverting back to letting her chew on a cold, wet washcloth and the rocking. It had seemed to be working until I made any move to get up from the chair.

At least Bruce wasn't the only one who was going to have a sleepless night…

On the nights that Bruce had been out with Dick over the last week and a half, he had been home shortly after midnight, ready to help soothe our daughter's woes. Mattie had surely provided the distraction that I needed, keeping my worry and jealousy over Bruce at bay. He had returned each time, not worse for the wear, kissing my cheek and taking Mattie into his arms. All without the stink of antiseptic, the intense look in his eyes and the palpable exhaustion lagging his form.

Before, I had never minded the long nights waiting for him, but then I had usually been out myself. As much as I hated to admit it, I had been so consumed with Bruce's recovery and having Mattie that worrying about returning to my former life had been cast aside. There had been rare nights over the summer when I had wondered if permanently stepping down had been the right thing, practically accepting domestication. I had never openly discussed with anyone, knowing full well it would lead to questions that I had no answers for. But after seeing Bruce step back into his mantle, I had a question of my own.

If he could do it, why couldn't I?

As Mattie quieted, I looked down at her thinking, That's why….

Rising from the chair, I opted to give up trying to rock her to sleep and walked towards my bedroom. Rubbing Mattie's back as her fingers loosely clutched my shirt, I kissed the top of her head. I hit only one of the overhead lights, keeping the room fairly dim in case she did decide to surrender to sleep. Before settling on the bed, I walked into the bathroom, rewetted the towel before giving it back to her. I sat on the edge of the bed before scooting up against the pillows, sighing to see the alarm clock only ready quarter of midnight.

When it read ten after, she was miraculously asleep.

I nearly dared a call to Barbara to check in as I had the previous nights Bruce had been out with his protégé but didn't want to risk waking Mattie. I had called her earlier in the evening to find out that the signal had gone up for a valid reason as Harvey Dent had managed to finagle his way out of Arkham. Unlike Bruce, I had only known Two-Face, my knowledge of the actual man limited to his campaigns and limited time as the DA of Gotham. The complete opposite of my relationship with Bruce, Harvey had turned from friend to foe.

Although risky, I rose from the bed after an hour of watching Mattie sleep in my arms. Tiptoeing down the hall, I silently made it to the nursery and settled her into the crib. After twelve minutes, I was certain she had finally tired herself out enough to at least sleep for a few hours on her own. I turned the baby monitor on before returning to my bedroom, smiling at the small monitor on Bruce's nightstand to see her still motionless.

Collapsing onto the bed, I stared up at the ceiling. The soft patter of paws leapt onto the duvet and I allowed myself a smile as Isis began rubbing her chin on my foot. The peaceful moment was suddenly cut short as the bedside telephone rang sharply. I leapt up and grabbed it before the sound traveled to the room next door, "Hello?"

"How is she?"

I was honestly surprised that Bruce had called seeing how he hadn't done so on his previous outings. Earlier in the week, I had reasoned that he didn't want to interrupt his focus by slipping out of the dark façade, even for a moment. At least he had taken the initiative to drop the growl in his voice.

"Just got her down," I replied, also keeping my tone in check, "Tylenol didn't seem to do anything for her, but as long as I rocked her and gave her that washcloth she eventually settled."

Bruce sighed quietly and suddenly I thought that even though this was my first night alone with her, it was just as hard for him to face his first night away.

I found myself trying to distract him by asking, "So, Harvey, hunh?"

His voiced seemed rougher when he replied, "Nothing yet. Just left Arkham, nothing in the visitor logs or his therapy sessions in the last few weeks to indicate an intent to escape. Robin and Batgirl are looking through possible hideouts, Nightwing is covering target locations… I'm off to question previous associates."

"So, a late night then."

I expected him to grumble a reply, I hadn't expected him to grunt, "I'm sorry."

"You only need to apologize if you come home in more than five pieces."

Bruce grunted something before saying, "Four it is."

He hung up without another word. I sighed, returning the phone to its cradle before looking down at Isis. After a moment, I reached out at stroked her scruff, "His pillows are all yours, my dear."

She purred in response.

^V^


	3. Life Is Good: III

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.

^V^

Barbara had been partially right, finding Lyle had taken longer than it should have.

His parole officer had long since been bribed to report in that Lyle Sutherland was obeying the rules and working hard at reforming himself. Rather than actually waste time going through the motions of starting life anew, Lyle had been quick to revert to his surefire method of income: gambling. Dick had once told me that the thug turned snitch was a live version of the fictional character Ace Rothstein, never picking the wrong team or fighter or horse in a match for decades. Working mainly in the East End and the Bowery, Lyle had managed to stay off of the radar for the last fourteen months since his release from Blackgate.

After all, there was no OTB access from a jail cell.

Upon learning of Harvey's escape, Lyle had immediately come to mind. He had worked along side a number of the rogues, namely with Scarface and Two-Face. He would have never lasted a day under the Joker's command, especially since his tongue was as sharp as his mind. Although not a hired muscle by any means, his intellect and mastery of probability came in handy planning getaways and success rates of high end crimes. According to the file on the crays, the last time Dick had questioned him was shortly after Pasqualle had fallen, wanting information on Maxie Zeus.

His mailing address on file with the parole department was a one bedroom apartment in Chelsea. I arrived a little after eight-thirty in the evening to find it was empty, stinking of dirty laundry and stale sex. He had always been a fan of the ladies, regaling them with wads of money and stories of his life on the B-list of criminals. After a quick search, I found his rent was one month behind and that he was employed at a pool hall in the Bowery. At five hundred dollars a week, Lyle must have been desperate to start bringing in money on the side.

Perhaps he had lost his gift of premonition…

Navigating over to speak with him, my mind was hyperactive with thoughts of Two-Face and what his possible plans could entail. Touring the streets in the Mobile, catching minor details on the streets, monitoring the scanners had been innate, requiring absolutely no effort. Somewhere deep down, there was a tiny notion that registered that I was finally back. Granted, I had regained my memories at the beginning of summer and spent the following months training rigorously, but being back on the streets, behind the mask… that was where I had been waiting.

There was one other thought circling my mind…

Before it grew out of control, and before it became a distraction I couldn't afford, I called Selina. She seemed happy to hear from me, appeasing my worries about how Mattie had gone down for the night and even offering a light hearted comment to send away the growl in my voice. There was no exchange of I love you, there wasn't a plea to come home or to be careful.

Just her voice teasing me in my ear as if I was right beside her.

I had expected that my first night back was going to be difficult, leaving them behind.

I felt guilty that it was so easy.

Thirty minutes later, I found Lyle in the alleyway behind his place of employment, his gait unsteady after treating himself to free drinks at the bar. I watched from a fire escape as Lyle stood facing a dumpster and urinated on wobbly legs. Once he had attended to himself, I dropped down behind him, waiting seeing how I had no desire to see a grown man mess himself.

"Jesus!" he squealed when I grabbed his collar and pinned him up against the brick exterior of the building. He wore his usual tasteless attire: stained khakis and a navy blazer over a pastel yellow shirt. His idea of a fashion statement, although I was unable to judge since it was at least a decade more advanced from what Matches Malone donned.

When his toes were satisfactorily dangling above the pavement, I positioned my face inches from his, "What do you know about Two-Face?"

"Uh," he stuttered, "You know, that he has a coin collection."

Not in the mood, I slammed him up against the wall harder and lifted his one hundred and sixty pound frame higher off the ground. Panic caused his face to flush and his eyes to bolt as he stammered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"I'm not asking you again," I snapped as I let him drop to the damp pavement. He fell on his rear and scrambled to his feet, looking towards the opening of the alley as if he were going to run away. He knew better. He knew I would find him.

Eyes still darting from the exit to my face, he started, "Well, I haven't heard anything about him per say, 'cept that a few guys were in here earlier this week, talking about a big deal going down in the Village. Some sort of new gig they're working. Lots of money, guys came in here and got so schnookered that they were kicked out."

With me glaring down at him, he proceeded, "So, I asked 'em you know what it was, if I could get work. They laughed for a while and slapped me on the back before saying how only the boss took big men, good enough to fight off the Bat."

My eyes narrowed, daring him to lie to me.

He gulped and drew a deep breath, "And then Art, our bouncer, kicked them out… I swear, that's all they said."

I looked to where I had dumped him and nodded towards his wallet, "Dropped something."

He stepped over and picked it up, leaving him to stumble back in on his own. I made my way to the Batmobile two blocks away and checked the list of addresses for Harvey's possible hideouts. Sure enough, a warehouse in Village was one of mine to look in on. It took another thirty minutes to maneuver the back alleyways through Little Stockton and then over the bridge to Village. Barbara quickly picked up on my travels and opened a visual on the center consol, "Any luck?"

"We'll see," I offered. She updated me on the progress of the others, none of whom had been able to turn up any viable answers or locations. My gut told me the warehouse was it, but I hadn't had to use that part of my gut in a long time.

I parked three blocks from the building and then proceeded to move out on foot. There were two SUV's, one black and one white, parked towards the rear of the twelve hundred foot square facility. After taking refuge on an adjacent rooftop, I took out my binoculars and peered into the dingy windows. Thanks to an internal light source, I spotted four at a table eating and three more stood in the center of the building. Six others were posted in pairs at each of the entrances and I assumed at least three more were at vantages points unseen to me, based on their strategy of placement.

Save for those baring takeout utensils, all were armed with an arsenal of weapons. Uzis, semi-automatic rifles, sub-machine guns in addition to any concealed handguns and knives. Lots of man power and lots of fire power meant lots of money, just as Lyle had overheard. With nothing on the radar for an operation so large, it was safe to say there was a good chance Two Face was involved.

I shot a line over to the warehouse, treading quickly to crouch above an air vent that was partially destroyed. Glancing down to the open floor space, I realized I had been wrong. There were four more men that I had not able to see originally, the last being Two Face himself.

"Oracle."

"How's that luck working for you?" she replied.

"It's Dualex Glass Warehouse. I am on target."

"All right, I'll send the troops. Got a head count?"

"Fifteen armed men in addition to Two-Face himself." I was startled when I heard the engines of the SUVs start behind me. As I stood upright, the vehicles entered the warehouse, stopping only long enough for two men to climb into each, with Harvey standing in between them.

"Damnit, they are leaving..."

"Wait, Nightwing will be there in a few minutes-."

Seeing how one of the lookouts had finally spotted my silhouette, I didn't have a few minutes. He called out the alert before aiming his Heckler and Koch MP5 skyward, quickly joined by those still standing around the vehicles. I dodged out of the way, the bullets piercing through the broken vent and shooting into the night sky. Ignoring Barbara as she screamed at me over the comm. link, I listened intently through the cacophony for the voices down below.

Nothing useful except for a general consensus that they wanted me bullet-riddled and dead.

"Send out a BOLO out, two recent model Toyota FJ Cruisers, one black, one white!" I barked at her between spurts of gun fire.

"What's going on?"

When there was a brief pause in the ricochet of bullets, I exhaled, "I'm going in."

^V^

"Two heads are better than one."

"Bad Two-Face joke," I replied as we made out way out of the Clocktower.

"No," he followed me out onto the ledge, "I meant we should work together."

I looked to Robin, contemplating his proposal to check out possible hideouts together. Yes, two sets of eyes were more useful than one, but I tended to move more quickly than he did, at least on foot and was less distracted by casual conversation. With Dick retaking his Nightwing guise full time, I had noticed a sudden increase in their neglected antics. Even still, I found myself offering him a curt nod.

Combined, our locations were predominantly active businesses with a penchant for supporting criminal activity. If patrols were ever slow, they were a sure fire place to find something to do. We moved swiftly on foot, although it wasn't a game of tag or racing that he usually pursued with Nightwing. I simply upped the ante and degree of difficulty, jumping from one rooftop to another, any time he came remotely close to catching up.

Reaching our first location, a less than savory pool hall regrettably located at 222 22nd Street, he was out of breath. I asked if he still wanted to work with me and Robin smirked, "Damn straight."

Two-Face had not been inside and there had not been enough illegal activities to warrant our intervention. From there, we had moved out on foot to the next point, fifteen blocks south on Civic Street. I toned down my rate of speed a fraction, trying to be nice. Robin managed to get his wind back as he once more found his voice, "Hey… do you think it's too soon?"

"For what?" I asked, pausing on the rooftop of a four story bakery.

When he reached me, Robin shrugged, causing his cape to rise and fall, "I mean… this shouldn't be his first night back."

"Had to come back some time," I defended our mentor. Having worked with him over the summer, I knew how quickly he had regained everything, how determined he was to get back to how he once had been. I also knew that there were only so many simulated fights or situations that would be beneficial, that the real thing was needed to snap him back into place.

Now or never.

Their worry for him was blatant, palpable. I had seen it in the Cave, at dinner, even that afternoon, not only in Tim and Dick, but Bruce as well. I felt as if I was the only one that knew he would be fine, making their doubts a cause for concern. We had to trust each other without lives, not wasting a fraction of a second with second guesses.

Hence why I often did better on my own.

Looking at Robin's face, I knew what he was thinking. What he was remembering.

I had been there that night, too.

He looked away from me, "It's one thing to come back to the regular work… but with Two-Face… any one of them could have escaped and had to be Harvey out of all of them…"

"We'll find him. We'll help him."

"If he lets us," he said lowly, his eyes narrowing in on something in the distance.

A tone sounded on both of our comm. links. Where Oracle was always calm when she was giving us directions, pointing out hot spots or giving us heads up on incoming police. Her voice was on the verge of being frantic, "Batman is on target, Dualex Glass warehouse. At least sixteen hostiles, shots have been fired."

Robin looked to me but Nightwing was the first to respond, "I can be there in seven minutes, tell him to wait for back-up."

"You tell him," she responded, "He's already blocked the comm."

"Damn him…" he muttered.

As I looked about the city skyline, setting a course in my mind, Robin said, "Batgirl and I are about five minutes away, we'll be right there."

As always, I said nothing, opting for action as opposed to words. Knowing he would be more than capable of keeping up with me, I took flight, navigating rooftops back to the alley where I had parked my cycle earlier. Instead of the desire to race fueling him, it was adrenaline, the need to reach our mentor's side in time. I landed on the ground first, instantly throwing a leg over the bike while reaching for the ignition. A second later, Robin was doing the same, throwing and arm around my midsection and saying into my ear, "Ready."

As we dodged traffic, taking to the sidewalk at numerous times, Nightwing came over the link again, "How close are you?"

Seeing how I was working on narrowly avoiding a group of drunk people smoking outside of a bar, Robin replied, "Three minutes."

"Make it two," he snapped back.

"You heard the man," Robin said as he held on tighter.

Nightwing then added, "Don't let him get away."

Jumping back to the street to bank a hard right, I wondered to myself if he was talking about Dent or Batman.

The final stretch of street was dark, two of the six streetlights dead or dying. Even still, I turned the lights on the cycle off and gunned it the last seventy-five yards, coming to an abrupt stop to the right of the building. The lights were off inside, but flashes of white could be seen as gunfire rattled within. As we jumped out and raced towards the nearest entrance, two SUV's crashed through the adjacent garage door.

I turned to take after them, but Robin grabbed my arm, "He's inside!"

Batman was inside, along with eleven men. All armed. All shooting.

With their attention diverted to a single point, we stormed in, pulling on breathing masks once we spotted the blue haze of tear gas. Batman was holding his own, working through the group and disarming them savagely. Although they were technically allies, the other men seemed to have no problem shooing at their target, even if one of their own was in the way. Robin proceeded to take down those taking deliberate shots with bolos while I opted for a more hands-on approach.

I found my first target and dodged swiftly as he fired the remnants of his semi-automatic bullets at me. When he ran out, he tried to club me with the gun, but promptly regretted it when I kicked his forearm hard enough to crack both the radius and ulna. Fueled with pain, he roared before lunging at me, earning a foot strike to his solar plexus that forced him to double over. The five and a half second encounter ended when I rendered him unconscious with a blow to the temple.

In the following thirty seconds, I disarmed and disabled three more men, the last was used as a projectile in order to strike his ally as he assaulted Robin. Helping him back to his feet, we both looked to find our mentor still surrounded, but not even remotely in danger. He could have easily taken out twice as many opponents in half of the time, but he was making it count, making them suffer.

"Shall we?" Robin asked before taking flight.

We joined in the fray, a momentary distraction for both Batman and his foes. While blocking hits and delivering blows, I heard a van start. I looked to see two men getting into a delivery van, quickly revving it to life before making a run for it. With our taking care of the hostiles, Batman had seen it as an opportunity, one he hadn't bothered wasting time explaining save for a heavy growl over the link, "Stay here."

Robin exclaimed before taking out the last man standing, "What the hell are you doing?"

The van was long gone, so naturally Batman did not respond. I thought the answer was fairly obvious and replied, "He's going after Dent."

There was a brief moment where Robin glared at me, although his sweat dampened bangs and red cheeks deterred significantly from the scowl. He then shook his head, "Let's get them tied up, GCPD can't be too far away."

The roar of a cycle accompanied Nightwing as he arrived, not two minutes after Batman had already departed. He didn't even bother to get off of his bike, let alone killing the ignition. We told him that Batman had made contact with us, offering a short bark on the link for us to stay put.

"Stay here," he echoed our mentor before taking off, following Batman's homing beacon on the cycle's computer.

As we made it back to my bike, the wail of sirens were starting to approach but there was no sign of flashing lights. I went to sit first, but he beat me to it, simultaneously bringing the engine to life while checking the computer console.

I hopped on behind Robin as he said, "They're heading for the highway."

Good companionship, a good fight and a good chase.

All in one night made it hard to beat.

^V^

My first thought hearing from Babs that Bruce was in a firefight was of the night he had been shot by Pasqualle.

My second thought was that if he wasn't killed by Two-Face and is legion of thugs, that I would kill him myself.

The ride into the city had been the most painfully awkward one I had ever endured. Bruce had been behind the wheel, as he had been the previous nights he had joined, but instead of letting the heavy silence settle between us, I had opened my mouth. He had made no sign that he had been listening as I said, "Listen… if it's too much, if something big is going down, we can handle it. You don't have to push it the first night back."

I tried again when we crossed the Westward bridge, but I barely got a word out before he had growled, "That's enough."

Looking at him, I had been quick to recognize the set jaw, the tension in his shoulders and arms as he gripped the steering wheel and the focused look in his lens covered eyes.

The Bat was back, I had thought to myself.

He had then proceeded to explain that we would all go into Tri-Corner, although only he would go to police headquarters to speak with the commissioner. There had been no point in trying to talk to him at that point, his mind had been made up and it was scientific fact that it would not change.

Coal could turn into diamonds but diamonds were forever.

And to top it all off, he had been able to locate the hideout but rather than address all of us in order to join him, he had briefly notified Barbara before declaring his one-man operation. He was at his physical peak one more with his mind as sharp as ever, but it was one thing to take Cass and myself out in the training bay, a warehouse full of armed men was entirely another. Calculated risks were part of the job, but not death traps.

Well, death traps were too, but not if you could avoid them.

I had in the adjacent borough when Barbara sent out the message. Seeing how I had ridden down with Batman, I had to waste forty-nine seconds borrowing a motorcycle out of a private parking lot. As I raced across the city, I vented to Barbara until she closed the connection and then I vented to Robin until he closed the connection, arriving at the scene.

Barbara had tried to quell me by saying Bruce knew what he was doing.

The man had a six-month-old baby at home and a fiancée.

His first night back and he was alone with more than a dozen armed men.

The last time he was in active duty, he took a bullet to the head.

He did not know what he was doing.

Making a wide enough turn to drive passed the open doorway of the warehouse, I glanced briefly inside to see Batgirl and Robin diligently securing a dozen limp figures on the ground. The gave me a short summary of what had transpired, including the fact that Batman had taken off on the roof of a white getaway van. I wanted to ask how many had been downed before they had arrived, but I didn't have the time.

Thankfully, there weren't too many white vans with caped figures riding on them.

At a minimum of seventy-five miles per an hour, the van took sharp corners, its wheels coming up from the pavement in an attempt to get Batman off of roof. Seeing how I had managed to procure a BMW HP Sport motorcycle, it was no task in catching up to them, backed with Quickshifter technology and top speeds of over two hundred and seventy miles per an hour. The wind hurt as it hit my bare face, something I became less concerned about when I heard gunfire up ahead.

Closing in, I spotted flashes of light within the tinted back windows and sudden moves of evasion from the figure holding on to the roof. Bullets flew skyward from the interior in a regular pattern, deemed to be a semi-automatic handgun given the quick pops instead of thundering rapports. At twenty feet off, I saw a bullet hit Batman in the right arm, his blood shooting out like fireworks and spraying over the white, glossy exterior of the vehicle. Still, he held strong and proceeded to flip over in front of the windshield to block their view.

The tactic was generally successful in causing the driver to crash, especially at high speeds. With the on-ramp for the interstate highway not even a tenth of a mile away and not entirely certain how badly my mentor was hurt, I wasn't about to take any chances. I gunned it, closing in the last hundred yards, thankful that the few other drivers on the road were still on the shoulder, recovering from being violently passed by the van.

Pulling out in front and putting a few yards between us, I shot my left hand back, deploying a compartment of tacks to the pavement. The van's tires snapped as they flew over the metal bits and the battered vehicle began to swerve viciously back and forth from the driver's blind corrections.

"Bail, they're going to crash!" I called over the comm. link, trying to divert my attention the road in front of me.

He didn't so much as look at me, instead focusing on turning to face the windshield.

I pulled back in order to ride parallel to van just as he smashed through the windshield with a small explosive. Still not even entirely in the vehicle, I watched on as he pummeled the occupants, starting right of the bat by one-punching the driver. In part, I knew it was because he wanted them to suffer, but the reasoning behind it was that if their bodies were limp when the van crashed, they were less likely to suffer grievous injuries.

Knowing it was futile to board the sinking ship, I opted to navigate beside it, keeping my eyes on any possible obstructions. There was an intersection less than a mile ahead, but there was no need to remind him of it. A small window of opportunity presented itself in the form of a grassy embankment and he took it, jerking the wheel the right. I readily braked, opting to park on the shoulder as the van rolled through two rotations before coming to a stop.

As I carefully navigated the steep bank, I was relieved to see only steam emitting from under the crumpled hood. After a few thuds, the side door popped out enough to reveal Batman dragging out two moaning figures. The overhead streetlights did little to conceal the scene before me, including the wetness running down his arm. He glanced up at me briefly as I arrived next to the van but before I could say anything, he said, "Lyle's tip was right."

"So I see. You could have waited for me."

"No, I couldn't have," he growled as he returned into the van. He emerged a moment later carrying two duffle bags, and the semi-automatics that had been used on him, "They would have been long gone by the time you showed up and I would have been empty handed."

Sirens began wailing in the distance and I said, "No time to interrogate them."

He glared down at the men at our feet before slowly crouching above the one that was somewhat conscious. There was an ugly laceration over the man's temple and his arm lay in a very unnatural position. Batman glared down at him and added, "They'll go to the police ward at Mercy General. I'll question them after their bones are set. For the time being."

By the time we had made it to the street, the Batmobile had arrived on autopilot and Batman was quick to jump in. He glanced at me again, "We're done here. Return the cycle and return to the Cave."

Knowing full well that Bruce wouldn't, I called Alfred and brought him up to speed on how the first night back had played out. He had been quick to ask, "And how severely injured is Master Bruce?"

I slowly put a leg over the bike, "He was fighting long before I got there. Plus a bullet clipped his arm."

"Ah, considerably more fortunate that I had anticipated. I shall see you upon your return, sir."

Setting my weight on the cycle, I sighed, "Don't wake Selina. I want to ream him out before she does."

^V^

I had feared that Master Bruce's first night back would resemble his first night ever.

So many years ago, I had found in him the study, back when he had still referred to it as his father's study. He had barely been conscious, blood freely flowing from an untended gunshot wound severing the cubical artery. Later, as I stitched him up, he had admitted that a police officer had shot him, but that an underage prostitute had been responsible for the deep stab wound in his thigh.

"And this?" I had inquired, pointing to the laceration on his brow.

He had smirked before answering, "That would be when I flipped the police car after I was taken into custody."

"Of course, sir."

From that night forward, he seemed to have brandished a new wound each night, reaching a pinnacle moment after a terrifying showdown with Gotham's finest resulting in numerous gunshot wounds and broken bones. It was then that the learning curve seemed to sharpen, the injuries became less threatening and more frequent. Certainly during grave endeavors, he would stumble his way home in need of medical attention. For the less serious injuries, he often chose t self-treat as a way of avoiding my commentary.

Something suggested that Master Bruce would not be willing to hear my words as I tended to him after his second premiere night in the cowl.

And although his young protégé had urged me not to, I found myself immediately making way to the third floor to wake Ms. Kyle.

I paused before her door and took a breath before rapping. After a few moments, she opened it, her raven hair in quite a disarray but the clarity in her eyes said she had not been sleeping, "What is it, Alfred?"

"Master Bruce and the others will be returning shortly, and-."

"Is he hurt?" was her instant response.

"Nothing a few stitches won't mend."

"Right…" she glanced back into the darkened room behind her before sighing, "I'll get my robe."

"Ms. Sel-."

She cut me off once more, and although her words were curt, her tone wasn't, "Don't waste your breath, Alfred."

I opted to wait for her as she donned her husband's heavy robe and his slippers. Before making our way to the elevator, she checked in on her daughter briefly, silently exiting the room with a hand held baby monitor. Descending into the Cave, I informed her of what little Master Dick had relayed to me. When she inquired as to why he had engaged the men on his own, I promptly answered, "I feel that the others were too far off to wait for."

Just as we reached the subterranean level, she shook her head, "I told him to be careful."

"I assure you that Master Bruce used the utmost caution possible in the scenario at hand."

"Right, Alfred, and I'm just a girl who likes cats and shiny things."

I repressed a smile as she stepped out of the elevator car, giving her a stride's length before following. As I prepared the medical bay for triage, Ms. Kyle paced, the slippers making soft scuffing noises instead of the angry clack of her usual high heeled shoes. There was no need to assure her that he was fine or that the risk was worth the price he paid as she was more than aware. That, and the look on her face suggested she was not worried for her beau's welfare in the least.

As the roar of a motorcycle broke into the cavern, I wondered if Master Bruce would require more stitches after speaking with Ms. Selina.

Looking to the open space when the motorcycle came to a halt, I was surprised to see it was both Master Tim and Miss Cassandra aboard. Neither looked to be any worse for the wear from when they had departed earlier in the evening but I promptly inquired each if they were all right. Ms. Selina watched on silently, finally resting in one place, somewhat pleased to find that her new family members were unharmed.

Master Tim was quick to shed his mask and gloves although his female counterpart seemed reluctant to do the same. I wondered if she had an intention to return to the city, seeing how there were still a few hours until dawn. She was very much like her mentor in that respect, even though she had only been with us for such a short time.

The Batmobile arrived ten minutes later just as Master Tim had disappeared into the costume vault. Standing between the dark vehicle and Ms. Selina, I suddenly wondered if there was a safer and perhaps less tense spot in the Cave best suited for my well being. Thankfully, Miss Cassandra had remained suited up and was at full attention.

When the door pulled back, I made the first move out of those present, offering my charge assistance out of the vehicle and to the medical bay. Master Dick had mentioned the gunshot wound I spotted on his right arm, already dressed with a compress bandage and a tourniquet. As expected, her refused my direct aide, stepping out of the car carrying two duffle bags towards the lab area, calling out to Master Tim to start cataloguing evidence. Noticing that Miss Cassandra was still standing idly by, he handed her the bags and informed her to help in the tedious process.

She was unbeatable physical force in the field, but was still learning the ropes of detective work.

Ms. Selina then stepped forward silently, looking over the bloodied form of her husband-to-be, her face appearing as though she were about to scream at him as opposed to crying. She kept her distance, following us silently as we proceeded to the medical bay. Once on the gurney, he slowly removed his mask, tunic and gloves before unlocking the body armor underneath. Armor that had saved his life hundreds of times over the years.

The wound to his left deltoid looked much worse than it actually was, the bullet having missed major blood vessels and leaving minimal muscle damage in its path. His face wasn't too worse for the wear, minor nicks and only one bruise at his temple. In addition, several massive bruises covered his torso, from what appeared to be round blunt objects of some sort. Lastly, several lacerations from glass and debris as a result of the accident laced his forearms.

Working from the largest to smallest threat, I sterilized and stitched as quickly as possible. Ms. Selina stood to my flank, still not uttering a word. I bandaged Master Bruce's arm and several of the more serious lacerations with four-by fours and medical tape, the white material standing out starkly against his bruised flesh. He sat motionless throughout, his eyes never leaving the figure standing behind me, even as I administered a tetanus booster and a dose of antibiotics to prevent infection.

When I began to measure a pain killer, Master Bruce deftly rose and strode out of the medical bay, Ms. Selina quickly following him. He paused only briefly to tell his young protégés that he would return momentarily to go through the evidence, not committing to an actual measurement of time. They then proceeded to stairs, still having not exchanged a single utterance.

After nearly and hour, Master Dick had yet to arrive, nor had Master Bruce returned. I decided it was wise to investigate matters in the Manor. As I passed the computer bay, the private phone line rang to life and I quickly answered, "Yes?"

"Al, I'm going to stay in the city tonight…" Without being prompted, he explained his change in plans, "I know if I go up there, I only do something I'll regret in the morning."

I offered, "Or say something."

"Right," he sighed heavily, "And besides, I'm sure Selina's going do… or say the same thing I would… only with more…"

"Conviction, sir?"

His voice was lighter when he replied, "Exactly. They have the runaways in custody and all of the thugs from the warehouse, so at least that's a big blow to Two-Face. APB is out on the getaway cars… hopefully we can pick up something from the bags he collected… Tim and Cass made it back… bet he's dumped the grunt work on them."

I looked towards the laboratory, smiling to see Miss Cassandra had finally removed her cowl, "That he has, sir. Will we see you in the morning?"

"Of course. 'Night, Alfred."

"Good night, Master Dick."

I gave my youngest charges another thirty minutes to work before suggesting it was wise to call it a night as well. While Master Tim finished cataloging a collection bullet magazine clips, Miss Cassandra finally left the shed her guise, emerging from the costume vault in oversized gray sweat pants and a fitted black shirt. Ushering them up the stairs to be sure they left the Cave, I rewarded them with a brief stop to the kitchen where a fresh plate of chocolate and peanut butter cookies had been waiting. They put a sizeable dent in the pile of treats and downed two glasses of milk a piece before admitting to being sated.

Had Master Dick returned with them, surely the plate would have been emptied.

After securing them in separate guest rooms on the second floor of the east wing, I proceeded to the third level of the west. My ears listened carefully for shouts or flying objects or the shatter of priceless collectibles, but nothing seemed to disturb the silence of the old house. As I reached the top of the stairs, I was surprised to see Master Bruce approaching, concealing the lower half of his suit with his robe. me in the hall.

Before he said a word, I noted that Master Tim and Miss Cassandra were resting after their endeavors of the evening. He nodded slightly before inquiring, "Has Dick returned yet?"

"No, he has decided it was best to remain in the city for the night, given the late hour."

As skilled as he was at concealing his emotions, I had the luxury of more than three decades of experience in translating the most minute of gestures. There was a considerable amount of anger in his eyes, but I was uncertain as to whether it was directed at Master Dick or himself.

He stepped forward suddenly, descending the stairs two at a time. Before he was out of earshot, I called out, "Will there be anything else, Master Bruce?"

Without pausing, he replied, "No, Alfred."

I waited until he was out of sight before sighing, "Good night, sir."

Either he had made peace with his betrothed or she had banished him from their sleeping quarters.

Something I would have to learn from her the next morning over blueberry pancakes.

^V^


	4. Life Is Good: IV

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter ahs been modified from its original version.

^V^

The alarm never went off, a direct result of my combined concern and anger for Bruce.

My plan had been to wake early, get Mattie changed and fed and then to smother her father with a down pillow. Given how late Bruce had made it to bed and the previous night's events, he would have naturally overslept. With my head start, I would have had more than enough time to get the job done, and possibly get to work on disposing of the body.

Instead, I woke alone in the bed, the sound of the shower running drifting from the open bathroom door.

After sifting through the evidence he had collected the night before, Bruce had made it upstairs at a little before five. I knew he had taken the time to check in Mattie, something that had been a constant since before he had recovered from amnesia. Unless he was certain she was asleep, he would not grant himself the same luxury. Even taking his outings with Dick over the last week into consideration, he had diligently been looking in on her, if not more so than usual. I had been certain that it was a combination of her discomfort from teething compiled with his life changing decision…

Sated that she was slumbering soundly, Bruce had then proceeded to navigate into our room in darkness, carefully slipping under the covers and narrowly missed touching his ice cold feet with my warm toes. I had returned to bed shortly after he had decided to make his way back down to the Cave, and despite my best efforts, I had drifted off. He hadn't made a sound nor had he moved excessively beside me, but my eyes had shot open at the overpowering stench of antiseptic.

I had rolled to face him, "I want to make one thing clear."

Bruce had nodded but when he went to respond, I had pinched his lips shut.

"If you ever pull something like this again, you won't have to worry about being killed by some henchman or some mastermind villain. I'll beat them to it. Understood?"

After I had released his lips, he had given his standard reply of compliance, "Yes, dear."

Mattie slumbering next door in the nursery had been the only reason that I hadn't screamed at him when he had first arrived after patrols. Still wearing the lower half of his suit, he had made the trek upstairs with me, knowing full well what was in store. He had to have known that his careless actions were going to upset me and should have expected my worst, even though I had restrained myself.

Barely.

I had no control over my words as I had cursed at him in the wee hours, ripping him apart verbally and almost physically. As he had washed the blood from his body with a washcloth, I had lectured him on how being bold didn't make him bullet proof. When he had wet his hair down and brushed his teeth, I had sat on the bed, pointing out how being stubborn and not waiting for back up was unacceptable. Before he had left for the Cave once more, I had made a final note that that his arrogance was going to get him killed.

Hindsight, I had pointed out all of the characteristics that made me fall in love with him.

And as a result of all of my useless ranting, I had failed to set the alarm clock.

With the blackout drapes still drawn over the windows, I was unable to determine just how long I had slept in. After a restless night, it was still a surprise to see the clock on my nightstand all too eagerly displaying it to be ten after eight. Rising from the bed, I smirked to see he had left his loafers on my side, knowing my penchant for wearing them instead of my own slippers. I crossed the dim room, first to the windows in order to hit the switch. As the drapes slowly pulled back automatically, I was greeted to brilliant sunshine, the start to a beautiful day.

Leaving Bruce, I then headed for the nursery, finding the room empty and spotless. The only thing out of order was a note on the changing table in Bruce's precise penmanship: Rub a dub dub.

Returning to the master bedroom, I approached the bathroom just as the water shut off, hearing Mattie giggling softly. Stepping onto the tiled floor, Bruce was just getting out of the shower with her, wrapping her in a big blue towel. As if nothing had happened, between us earlier that morning, he smirked at me, "Want to take her?"

"Of course," I smiled, taking her into my arms before kissing her damp brow. She rambled something in her own little language and I nodded, "I know, you love taking showers… Let's get you dressed, kiddo."

Once more, I returned to the nursery, drying Mattie off before putting on a fresh diaper onesie, opting for comfort with a little pink and purple striped tee shirt along with black leggings and white socks. Setting her down briefly on the floor so I could clean up, she immediately went about taking her left sock off. Stubborn, just like her father.

"Ollie?" she asked, before throwing her sock.

"Where's your dolly?" I began looking around, finding her leopard in the crib. I bent over and scooped her up, handing her the toy before saying, "Let's go see how Daddy's doing?"

She sighed before chomping down on the poor leopard's face, opting to gnaw instead of screaming in my ear.

The bathroom door was open when we returned, but where Mattie was dressed and ready for the day, Bruce had only been able to wrap a towel around his waist. I set Mattie down on the floor, where she promptly sat on the tiled floor and quietly chewed on her toy. Keeping an eye on her and her father, I leaned against the bathroom counter. He had also donned clean bandages on his arm, removing the extraneous ones now that Alfred wasn't watching. The near side of his jaw was clean and smooth while he quietly focused on shaving the other side.

The silent tension was thicker than smog.

"Any warm water left?" I found myself asking.

Nodding Bruce also offered a smirk, "Of course. But you should check. After all, how can you trust an 'arrogant, pin-headed ape'?"

"Did I say that last night?"

He rinsed the razor under the tap water, "Among other things."

I tried to smile, "Must have run out of names for you, to sink that low."

"Must have," he said, wiping his face with a hand towel.

After Mattie crawled over to him, she grabbed onto his bare leg and said, "Uh, uh."

"Everyone's yelling at me," he smiled before reaching down to pick her up. Mattie's gaze was instantly drawn to the white gauze, delicately reaching out with a pudgy finger to touch it. "It's a boo-boo."

She traced the edge of it before looking up and smiling back at him.

Without warning, I said, "I'm sorry."

He glanced to me, "Don't be. You were right. I could have waited. I could have been more careful. I could have-."

"No," I shook my head, "No, Bruce… I… it's just that the second I heard you were shot, all I could think about was… And… I know that was a freak thing, a one in a million chance, and that you know what you're doing and I-."

Closing the distance between us, Bruce shook his head, "It's okay."

.

"So, that's it? No reply, rebuttal, request, remark?" I raised an eyebrow with skepticism. An understanding Bruce was just as rare as an apologetic one.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Replying, rebuttaling, requesting and remarking can become rather redundant after a while."

"Is that so?" I asked.

Bruce leaned against the counter, "That is so."

"Did you hit your head last night?"

"Only on the wall as you ranted."

Even though he smiled, I found no humor in it. For a better part of the weekend, I would most likely have him returning the lashing by way of rehashing my sorry excuses for names and reasons why he was an "arrogant, pin-headed ape". Rather than kiss him back, I opted to kiss Mattie's cheek.

"She's ready to go down and eat," I finally said, walking away to turn the shower off. Slipping out of the loafers and my pajamas, I added, "She might need some Tylenol, she seems fine now but it won't last."

I caught him looking at me, forcing me to walk over with a smile on my face before ripping the towel off of him, ribbing him of his decency, "Thanks, I needed a towel."

We had little in store for the day aside from making amends. I knew Bruce would spend a good chunk of it in the Cave, leaving Mattie and I alone. One think I had to accomplish at some point was my appointment at Roblier's on Eckert. A stunning bridal boutique that absolutely adored the fact that Bruce Wayne's fiancée chose them to create the wedding gown and bridesmaids' dresses.

Aside from my daughter, the only other women I foresaw in our wedding party was Barbara and Cassandra if they were willing. Although it was a long time off until our tentative special day in June, there were a few milestones I wanted to get out of the way. Bruce's reply to many of my inquiries were all variations of "Whatever you want, dear".

If he kept it up, he'd be dipping into to trust funds for a Cartier themed wedding.

^V^

By nine in the morning, I was showered and dressed and hunkered down in front of my computer system with a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin

Every station was trying to make sense of Harvey Dent's escape from Arkham, as well as the chaotic scene that had taken place just south of the Knoll parkway. As with most dealings with the Rogues and the masked vigilantes who hunted them, the details ranged broadly, often making me wonder if they bothered to investigate before reporting at all. My personal favorite of the morning was tied between Two-Face having kidnapped two "unknown victims, possibly vigilantes" and Batman having been run over by a city bus.

The truth of the matter had been that we had already put damper on whatever Harvey's plans were. Interfering so quickly after he had escaped had relatively expected results. Minor injuries, suspects in custody and a small amount of evidence that would likely result in nothing conclusive. Tim and Cass had started cataloguing the night before, but Bruce had spent until nearly dawn recording his interpretations of each piece of paper or weapon. He had also recorded a verbal activity log, breaking down the incident at the Dualex warehouse along with apprehending the getaway van.

Listening to the recordings of him sharing his methodical train of thought made me realize just how much I had missed having him in the cowl.

Out of those taken into custody, he had no one of particular interest save for the two he had sent to the hospital. He had made notes to interrogate both of them in their recovery rooms that night, looking for answers that they probably wouldn't have for him. For most of the log entry, the video feed showed him working diligently, analyzing documents, looking for fingerprints and trace evidence and doing what he could to ignore the monitor. Bare chested and bandaged, he had still been wearing the lower half of his suit, not even bothering for comfort while he worked.

Tasks completed, he had finally taken his seat before the computer, his eyes very much alert despite the tired look on his face. No doubt there was some brawl shortly after between him and Selina, which would explain his slight apprehension of closing up shop for the night. His return to the cowl had its positive and negative effects, but it was necessary. Even taking into consideration everything that had happened in the last year, it was fairly inconsequential compared to what had taken place before.

He had made a vow, one that regrettably the birth of his first daughter and the engagement to the love of his life would not change.

Finishing my blueberry muffin, I closed the activity log and opened up phone paging system, localizing it to the master bedroom, smiling to hear Dick was still snoring away.

Somehow, I had managed to convince him out of going up to the Cave after last night's fiasco, knowing that with he and his mentor both being upset, it would only lead to a feud of seismic proportions. When he had finally made it to the Clocktower to vent, I had immediately ordered him to go get Chinese takeout. And then when he returned, I told him to shower and change as I got the food ready.

Finally, around three in the morning, I let him vent. I listened over orange chicken and overstuffed egg rolls about Bruce neglecting protocol, shutting off the comm. link and going solo into a dangerous situation, topped only when he had taken on a van loaded with gun-toting baddies. Filled with MSG and having put his thoughts into words, Dick had finally said, "I've never seen him act so foolishly."

I had laughed heartily and nearly spat out my soda, leaving Dick to stare at me in confusion When I had regained my control and asked, "Dick, have you ever seen Bruce, I mean really? For the last twenty years he has done nothing but disregard protocol and place himself into dangerous situations. Where have you been Boy Wonder?"

"This was different, Babs. I've seen him push the limits, put himself out on a limb… this was as if he was jumping off the limb without even bothering to see if there was another one to grab onto."

"Dick, if he wanted to go all out on his first night back, who could blame him? He's lost almost a year and a half… it's the most he's ever been out of commission."

"True, but… Still he should have waited."

"You know how he justified it," I had reminded him, "Because of his actions, you have a positive ID on a location, vehicles and Two-Face, a dozen of his men are in lockup and there is evidence. If I were in his shoes I would have done the same thing, and so would have you."

And end of discussion.

We went to bed around four, but where he was comatose, I found myself restless. I rose at seven-thirty, leaving Dick he snoring and sprawled across more than half of the bed. He had the day off from Bludhaven and wasn't about to waste his chance to catch up on sleep over something like fighting with Bruce.

Locking things up in the secure room, I trekked back to the kitchen in order to wash my plate and refill my mug. As I searched the fridge for a red velvet cake yogurt cup, I heard the buzzer from the hall, announcing a vehicle had passed into the underground garage. Using my mobile device, I brought up the security system's log and smiled to see it was a welcome and approved visitor, both by me and my cameras.

After three minutes, the door bell chimed and I gladly made my way over to answer, pulling the door back and smiling up at my father, "Morning, Dad."

Moving a small paper bag to his right hand, Dad leaned over and kissed my cheek, "Good morning, sweetheart, I didn't wake you, did I?"

I shook my head moving so that he could step inside. Shutting the door, I answered, "No, been up for a little while, trying to catch up on some things…"

"I bet… Have breakfast yet?" he asked as he shook the bag.

I smiled and lied. High metabolism and Boston creams were my friends.

Returning to the kitchen, I poured him a mug as he took a seat at the small table. I joined him with the coffee and two plates for the doughnuts. He remained quiet as I selected from the bag, the same look on his face as the one I had just seen on Bruce's.

"Some night, hunh?" I finally broke the silence.

"You could say that," he sighed before taking a small sip. "Thankfully, none of the men taken into custody could afford bail, and no one bothered to come and try to get them out. I have Special Crimes working on them right now, try to make something of such a big mess. Two from the van had to have orthopedic surgery done… not to mention six other civilian drivers that had accidents as a result of the van driving off…"

He took a bite of a glazed doughnut and wiped his moustache, chewing slowly before continuing, "I thought to myself, after Bruce dropped by… that it was going to be an easy night. Not one that had me on the phone with the deputy mayor at two in the morning."

"You know Bruce never does anything easy, let alone putting the cowl back on."

"How long has he been back?"

"Honestly, last night was the first. He's driven into the city a few times at night, but he wasn't active until the raid on the warehouse."

"Active… Witnesses said he was hanging onto the roof of the van, getting shot at, going around corners at eighty miles an hour."

The padding of bare feet on the hall floor interrupted our father-daughter breakfast. We both looked towards the hall to see Dick in a pair of flannel pants shuffling towards us. "Good morning, Dick," I said softly.

His appeared to still sleeping as he slowly moved towards the coffee pot, lips parted, eyes barely opened and a jaw line peppered with stubble. He mumbled something incoherent as he found a mug and poured a cup for himself. We watched in amusement as he downed the drink and came to life before our eyes, looking at us with a smile,

"Good morning… Hey, Jim."

Dad nodded towards the bag on the table "Morning, Dick… want a doughnut? Éclair?"

"Sure. I'm going to go, uh, cover my nipples first," he out the mug down and walked casually out of the kitchen,

Dad snickered before saying, "Modest… he spent a majority of his pre-pubescence wearing pixie boots..."

"He prefers to call them Peter Pan boots."

I faintly heard Dick call out something about choking on our pastry delights while telling embarrassing stories about him. Dad had smirked briefly before getting back to business, "You know… I've got witnesses saying Batman was shot last night."

"Before or after he was hit by a bus?"

Dad shook his head, "No, before the van crashed off the side of the road. I know it's a stupid question, but is he all right?"

I reached out and touched his hand as it gripped his mug. Just like the rest of us, having Bruce behind the mask once more also drudged up memories of what happened the last time he had worn it. When he looked up at me, I said, "He's fine. Couple bumps and bruises, nothing a few stitches and stern words from Alfred won't mend."

Clearing his throat, Dad nodded, "Figured as much… Well, no doubt he'll drop by tonight… Forensics didn't find anything of value in the van… Thought maybe he gave it a look before leaving…"

"If he finds anything, you know he'll tell you."

"I know… let's hope you're right, that he does find something. Anything… Like to get some sleep with a clear conscience… without having to worry what the hell Harvey Dent is up to."

^V^

Sleeping over at Wayne Manor had spared me the walk home, but it had regrettably opened the door for an awkward morning.

Instead of waking to my father complaining about me sleeping in, Alfred had politely roused me from bed with promises of omelets and bacon within the hour. After he departed, I glanced to the bedside clock to see it was nearly ten in the morning. Rising, I slowly stretched my arms, shoulders and neck before taking advantage of the attached bathroom. Only a few new bruises, not bad considering every single opponent I had taken down was twice my size.

Still wearing the sweats I changed into after patrols, I stepped into the quiet corridor, navigating towards the stairs. The house was eerily silent, making every step I took in my bare feet to seem louder than necessary. Reaching the bottom of the elegant stairwell, I was tempted to head to the study, but reasoned that brunch was the most important meal of the day. Especially if it wasn't a brunch prepared by Dana…

Entering the kitchen, I found Alfred pouring a cup of orange juice from a carafe, "Good morning, Master Tim."

"Morning, Alfred," I ran a hand through my short hair before asking, "Where is everyone?"

"Ah… Master Bruce is downstairs and Ms. Selina and Miss Mattie are running a few errands."

He offered me the glass and I thanked him, adding, "And Cass?"

"Miss Cassandra is in the nook, sir," he answered, nodding towards the open doorway at the far end of the kitchen, sure enough, Cass was sitting cross legged in one of the chairs, her plate sitting empty before her. She had a newspaper before her, but I knew she detested reading, making me wonder if it was an assignment from Barbara.

In the time I had glanced over, Alfred had prepared me a plate of a cheesy omelet, crisp bacon, slices of pear and a small bowl of yogurt. I eyed the feast with amazement before saying, "And most Saturdays I just heat up Eggo waffles."

Taking my bounty to the nook, I announced myself unnecessarily, "Mind if I join you?"

Cass looked up briefly and smiled, "Sure."

She had the faintest bruise on her right temple, partially concealed by a lock of hair, no doubt the only mark she had on her body from the night before. Where I had opted for comfortable sweats and a tee shirt, she was ready to hit the training mats in black Lycra pants and a fitted with long sleeved shirt. As I sat down beside her, I suddenly realized that she had already hit the mats, noting the faint marks of dust on her clothes and her hair slightly damp with sweat.

While I had been drooling on my pillow…

"Been awake long?" I asked before tasting the juice.

She shrugged, "Not really. Since seven. Nice to sleep in."

I shook my head, "No, I slept in… waking up at seven is the opposite."

Cass folded the newspaper and shrugged, "Barbara said, you snooze, you lose."

"Did you just call me a loser?" I asked, sitting upright in the chair.

"No… you woke up. Finally."

I ate relatively quickly, mixing forkfuls of breakfast heaven with playing back the previous night with Cass. Save for the shakedown at the warehouse, it had been a relatively easy night, coming home early in fact to get a head start on piecing everything together. Cass and I had been able to sort the evidence into categories of documents, weapons and miscellaneous before being ushered upstairs. No doubt Bruce had tended to the rest of it after explaining himself to Selina.

Alfred had deliberately put us in guest rooms out of hearing range, but I had reasoned that if they were fighting, it wouldn't have been that loud, not with Mattie sleeping nearby. During his recovery, I had never seen Bruce nor Selina raise their voices with one another. Since May, it had progressed from bickering to snapping to icy glares and eerily silent feuds. It should have been disconcerting, but in all honesty, it was actually a relief.

After all, the Bat and Cat weren't meant for happily ever after.

"When did Bruce go downstairs?" I found myself asking.

Another shrug later, Cass answered, "Ten minutes ago. They came down for breakfast, fed Mattie… then they left, he went down."

"They seem okay?"

"Bruce seemed find, favoring his right side."

I shook my head before clarifying, "No… I meant, did they seem upset? Angry?"

"No, seemed happy. Laughed when Mattie threw her banana at Bruce."

I finished my last piece of bacon before nodding, "Good… didn't have any claw marks on his face, or anything?"

Cass sighed, "They were fine. Too nosy."

"Hey, I just want to know how they are for my own well being. If he's in a bad mood, I don't want to go downstairs expecting the opposite." When she didn't reply, I added, "And now, I'm prepared for a less grumpy Bruce as opposed to a very grumpy one."

She rose from the table, "No sense of adventure."

"I had enough adventure last night, thank you," I said, gently touching my bruised shoulder.

Leaving me the front page of the Gotham Herald, featuring a picture of the wrecked getaway van, Cass left saying, "Adventure isn't over yet."

After breakfast, I made my way to the Cave, not shocked to find Cass back in the training bay having her way with the uneven bars. Rather than join her, I decided to let my stomach digest while putting my brain to work. Bruce was in the lab, hunkered over a microscope and despite my silent footfalls, he had called out, "The license plate was fake on the van, I need you to find a VIN. Same for the SUV's."

I paused beside the stainless steel table, looking at the digital screen attached to the microscope, broadcasting a cotton fiber. Waiting to reply until he glanced up at me, I said, "Sure thing. I'll try GCPD's files. Go into the city if necessary… Alvin Draper might have gotten his car towed last night."

He nodded, looking me over briefly before puling the slide out, but remained silent.

"How's the arm?"

"Fine," he said too quickly.

"Did you get a chance to look at the guns?" without waiting for him to reply, I moved closer, pointing out the bagged weapons on the table, "The Smith & Wesson M&P .22 matched prints on the passenger of the van, the Glock .22 matched the driver… The serial number on the Glock was completely etched out but I managed to get three digits off of the M&P…"

"And?" he asked, putting another slide in.

"Goes back to someone named Joseph Hayden… Which is great and all, if he was a real person."

Bruce looked up at me, contemplating briefly before saying, "He is a real person. He wrote Symphony number forty-seven in G major in 1772... Nicknamed the Palindrome... The second part of the Minuet is the same as the first but it's in reverse… the Trio is done the same."

I left the lab, heading back towards the computer, Bruce's footfalls following mine. Taking the chair, I put my fingers to work on the keyboard, quickly accessing GCPD forensics files under a false name and pass code. Backed by a false IP address, if anyone became suspicious about my activity, they would eventually trace it to the desk of Ray Turner in Vice. The same Ray Turner that retired before I was born.

"Let's see… only two other weapons had viable serial numbers, both going back to Joseph Hayden. They're trying to find him through VICAP, prints… as a possible alias…"

Bruce paused beside me, "Idiots."

Regrettably, police academy and criminal justice courses did not cover late eighteenth century composers.

"Well, it will keep them busy and out of our way," Bruce then said, "Check for a VIN number."

"Right," I looked through the files on record, which wasn't much given that it had been less than twelve hours since the raid. "No luck, everything was soldered. But we can run make and models…"

"Work on it… I'll finish physical evidence before I leave this afternoon. If you can't get anything on the van, go to impound."

"Will do," I looked up to see his eyes glued to the screen, the light washing over his face. The look of intensity should have sent a shudder down my spine, but instead I found myself fighting a smirk.

As he turned to leave, I asked where he had to go later, if I could help when I was in the city.

"No… It's part of my truce."

He left out _with Selina_.

^V^

I was in the bedroom, gingerly donning a navy blue sweater over a striped dress shirt when I heard laughter in the hall. It was hard to blame all of the stiffness on the wound to my arm, especially since it radiated through my torso and back. Training with Dick and Cassandra had prepared me for taking on a dozen combatants at once. It had not prepared me to hang on for dear life off of a speeding van.

"Where is he…?" I heard Selina's voice.

We had decided to compromise. She would take Mattie for the morning to run errands in Bristol while I worked in the Cave and then I would join them for the afternoon. While they quested for shoes that would help Mattie develop walking skills, I checked through the evidence to see if I had missed anything. As they went to the bakery for coffee and a shared pastry, I beat the life out of a punch bag. When my daughter was being delicately pushed on a swing at the playground, I was trying to replace four ripped sutures on my arm.

"Where is Daddy?"

A productive morning.

"Where is he, Mattie?"

One filled with hindsight.

"In here," I called to her, stepping out of the spacious closet.

Mattie crawled into the master bedroom, followed closely by Selina. I crouched once I was positioned directly in front of my daughter, urging her to crawl faster towards me. Picking her up, I stood upright, wiping the drool from her chin while asking, "Where have you been?"

"Chewing on my Dior handbag while I was on the phone with Barbara. Anything to make her happy, at this point," Selina explained as she approached.

Mattie grabbed onto my shirt collar and set her head against my shoulder. Rubbing her back, I said, "If she's not up to it, we can go when she's down for a nap."

Selina shrugged, "She's actually been happy all morning… I think being out distracts her just enough."

I nodded before kissing the chaotic locks of dark hair on the top of Mattie's head. Looking to Selina, my eyes fell to her wrist to find a new silver watch around her wrist. I reached for her hand and she grinned as I took it, inspecting the diamond hour markers and sapphire crystal accents.

"You bought me a watch. To apologize."

I nodded, "So I see…"

Selina inspected the watch for a moment, "Well, if you want, I'll change her and restock the diaper bag… if you want to go down and top off the car, I left it behind the garage."

Handing Mattie over, I nodded, "All right. I still have to check in with Tim and Cass."

Shaking her head, she replied, "I passed Tim driving an ugly green Ford Taurus, and Cass is on the couch in the den." I explained that he was doing some investigating for me at city impound, noting that I hadn't expected him to head out so soon. Selina turned to head for the nursery, "He's a big boy now, Bruce."

I had meant to commend him on his efforts in the warehouse but had let assigning him additional work take precedent. He had certainly come a long way from the boy who had used the giant penny to take out flunkies of Ra's al Ghul or the boy who had let Bart Allen drive and ultimately crash one of the bat mobiles. His innate skills as a detective had been evident from the beginning, and finally his combatant skills were becoming just as formidable. A necessary balance between the two.

Sighing, I found my shoes, wallet and watch before making my way downstairs. As Selina had pointed out, Cassandra was in the den, sitting deep into the couch while nursing a bottle of water. The television was covering a midday news broadcast, featuring a reporter stationed outside of the cordoned off warehouse. I decided to pause at the doorway and watch with her.

"- where the infamous Harvey Dent evaded capture last night despite strong police efforts. An anonymous tip lead to the arrest of a dozen suspects who are believed to have been working for Dent. This find lead to not only the discovery of the make and model of the getaway vehicles, but also the apprehension of a dozen military grade, semi-automatic firearms. Police are asking that anyone with information about the whereabouts of Harvey Dent please contact the Special Crimes hotline."

"Thanks, Renee. Correspondent David Harper spoke with Detective…"

"Make it sound like they did all the work," Cassandra said softly.

I stepped forward and sat on the arm of the sofa, noting she was still dressed in her leggings and shirt. When we had gone downstairs for breakfast, Alfred had noted that Cassandra was not in her room, nor the Manor. Before settling down in the nook with Mattie and Selina, I had trekked to the Cave, finding my protégé in the training bay working smoothly through a slow moving kata of Tai Chi.

Given the sweat on her face, she had been cooling down, not warming up.

When she had finished, I had called out to her that Mattie wanted to know if she would join us for breakfast. It had brought a small smile to her lips, one I had mirrored when she had agreed.

She had spent the rest of the morning training, stopping only when I had called out to her. I knew what she had been trying to do, honing skills that she had felt were sub-par during the fight the night before. She represented the opposite of Tim with unmatched combat abilities but a lack in detective work. Their working together over the last few years had allowed for the deficits to alter significantly. An entire year of which I had no impact on…

"Tim left… do you want a ride into the city?"

She shook her head before looking up at me, "I'll stay. Shower. Work on computer."

"Very well. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Ready?" Selina asked from the hall.

Before leaving, I smirked "Better get off the couch before Alfred catches you."

The official Mattie transport vehicle was a silver Mercedes-Benz E63 AMG. There were airbags for the front seats both in front and on the sides, in addition to side head curtain airbags for the backseat. Side guard door beams reinforced all of the doors, the traction and torque was top of the line and the independent suspension all made for a quiet and safe ride. Dick had joked once about me putting a car seat into the Batmobile seeing how it was the technically the safest car in the world.

I had countered that it wasn't considering it contained a number of explosive devices and materials.

Alfred was in the pantry taking inventory, pausing briefly to bid his youngest charge farewell. He also offered a small paper bag, containing one of Mattie's frozen teething toys in addition to a juice box and Children's Tylenol. Selina promptly gave the toy to Mattie, opting to pack the little bag in the toddler survival shoulder bag.

Reaching the car, I let Selina pack the bag and Mattie in the backseat while I filled it up it gas. A personal fuel tank saved not only time, but me unwanted hassle of having my Black Amex card come up as unreadable at a gas station.

Taking a seat behind the wheel, Selina donned a pair of sunglasses and looked back to Mattie, "Ready, kiddo? Go see the monkeys and the fishies?"

Seeing how Selina had the morning to accomplish a number of errands, she had proposed we reserve the afternoon for taking Mattie to the zoo before my appointment at Roblier's. A nice public outing, lunch together and the first big step towards matrimonial bliss. She had suggested it over breakfast, after I had agreed to split my day for both halves of my life. I had nearly protested until Mattie had smashed her banana, screeching like a monkey.

"Sounds perfect," I had agreed.

Traffic on St. James was tolerable, making the drive to the Gotham Zoo and Aquarium take just over thirty minutes. Built in the early 1900's, the zoo covered nearly eight acres of land in the center of the borough of Coventry. A thirty-mile drive from the Theatre District, the Gotham Zoo was a highlight for tourists who came from all over to see the massive display of rare and common species in duplicated natural settings. There was even an exhibit named after a hefty donation from my father: The Thomas Wayne Gorilla Habitat. Alfred had said that my mother had been mad at my father after a particularly busy week at the hospital, calling him a rash of names in a heated argument.

The next day, he had donated to the gorilla habitat expansion, telling her that he could move in with them if she wished.

A pin-headed ape.

During the summer months, they had brought me to the zoo every other week. Where most children flooded the petting zoo area where they could feed and love on Pygmy goats, sheep, llamas and rabbits, I had preferred the larger exhibits. My favorite had been the Red Wolf paddock, where the elusive animals rarely showed themselves to visitors. I recalled sitting on my father's shoulders once, staring out into the foliage, praying for a glimpse of the wolves.

"They prefer the night time," my father had explained, "When it's quiet. That's when they come out, that's when they hunt."

Walking the same paths thirty years later, I carried Mattie from exhibit to exhibit, refusing Selina's offers to take her so that I could rest my injured arm. She squealed with delight at the lemurs bolting from branch to branch, laughed at the owls bobbing their heads and stared in wonder at the massive tropical fish tank. When we drifted to the big cat paddocks, we found a bench to take a short break on.

While I gave Mattie juice and helped feed her bite sized pieces of crackers and cheese, Selina stood by the six inch thick glass, staring down at a pair of black leopards as they soaked in the sun. I tried to stay away, for the particular exhibit held bad memories. Specifically a fight with Firefly that had ended with me getting mauled by those precious felines that Selina was gawking at. I had at least six razor precise scars on my body thanks to their lethal claws. One of them had even eaten the ear off of my mask.

Carrying on, Mattie mumbled on as she described the animals in her own language to us. Leslie said that her verbal skills were outstanding for her age and that actual words were in her near future. We both knew that D was an easier letter to pronounce than M, but that hadn't stopped us from each coaching her to say our parental names first.

As we stood together at the newly added dolphin tank, I noticed that it was already nearing one-thirty. Despite her busy day and endless teething woes, Mattie had remained cheerful and compliant, not even giving an inkling that she was tired or hungry. Before we could leave, however, Selina dodged into the gift shop and purchased a stuffed black leopard and gave it to Mattie. My daughter contemplated it for a moment before chomping down on its ear.

At least it wasn't Isis.

Trekking back into the city, we decided to take advantage of the unseasonably warm fall day for a lunch in the park. Parking in the one of the garages I had a pass for, we stopped at a deli and picked up drinks and sandwiches. Uptown was filled with magnificent architecture, but not twelve blocks from the Kane Center laid the sprawling acreage of Robinson Park. Many other families had also decided to enjoy the remnants of summer, playing soccer, using the playground and grilling hotdogs.

As busy as it was, we found a shady spot beneath a massive oak and settled in. Between small pieces of a chicken salad sandwich, Mattie entertained herself with blades of freshly cut grass. She handed me a small fistful and I thanked her with a kiss. Selina complained that she should have brought a camera, noting all of the great pictures she could have taken at the zoo. I pointed out that we would have to go again and she replied, "Don't tempt me. I might go back after Roblier's, cuddle with a leopard."

"Leopards can't buy you watches," I smirked.

"They don't need to," she challenged.

We kept conversation light for Mattie's sake, even as she decided to lay on her back between us. Just as I had finished my roast beef on rye, I looked down to see that Mattie was fast asleep, a crumb of bread on her lip. I pointed it out to Selina and she wiped it off with a moist towelette.

"Can't believe she fell asleep…" Selina said, caressing Mattie's cheek.

I reclined as well, stretching my legs out on the blanket and sitting back, resting my weight on my forearms and elbows. The stiffness had returned in my back and the weight on my right arm was causing my cuboidal pulse to throb.

Selina did the same, saying, "We don't have to go today, I can reschedule."

I shook my head, "No, you've already rescheduled three times. We're here. We should go."

She sighed before saying, "Well, he narrowed it down to three dresses for me. I still have no clue about bridesmaid dresses… Or our little flower girl."

"We should decide on a date," I found myself saying.

I nodded and adjusted my sunglasses. "Not winter, too hectic."

"Late spring… outdoors at the Manor."

She nodded but said nothing.

After twenty minutes of pretending to not think about Harvey Dent, I rose to my feet, leaving Selina with Mattie in order to bring the car out. It took longer than I had expected and by the time I returned to the park entrance, Selina stood on the curb, Mattie awake in her arms. Looking more closely as I pulled up in front of them, I smirked to see my daughter had a purple flower gripped in her hand.

The drive to Roblier's took thirty minutes in the traffic. His boutique was amidst the newer buildings of Glendale, fresh brick and mortar in designs a hundred years old. Originally a fashion designer from Paris, Jean-Luc Roblier had decided after designing a few wedding dresses for friends that his desire was to "make beautiful moments of matrimony more memorable." As per his business card and invoice letterhead.

The atrium of the building was surrounded in shades of white and off-white draperies, with china cabinets filled with wedding accessories and veils. Selina and I put on our betrothed bliss faces, smiling and studying the displays in awe before greeting the receptionist. Awaiting Jean-Luc, I silenced my mobile, also taking a moment to make an inquiry to Tim on his progress.

"Selina, mon cherie, ah and what have we here, but the adore-adable lil Miss Mattie, mon peitit chou!" Roblier's voice came from the rear of the room. He was dressed in a beige suit and pale blue shirt, bisected by a pristine white silk tie. At five foot even, the slender man resembled more of a child than a fifty-year-old world renowned designer. He kissed Selina's cheek and my daughter's cheek and then attempted to kiss mine as well.

I caught him and simply shook his hand.

"Well, less get started, n'est-ce pas?" he asked and lead us to the fitting room. The colors remained light and pretty but the walls were invisible behind rows and rows of dresses and dress fabrics.

Taking a seat with Mattie, I looked at my mobile again, leaving her to continue gnawing on her new stuffed toy. While Selina disappeared with Jean-Luc through a set of curtains, I read Tim's response: VIN was good, back to our composer. Been checking bank records/SSN/debts etc. Nothing yet.

I had replied: Keep looking. Forward everything to Gordon.

A moment later my phone buzzed: Will do. Happy dress shopping!

With Mattie still preoccupied, I sent a message to Barbara, asking if Dick was still in the city. Instead of simply responding, my phone came to life, vibrating and buzzing. I answered, "Just needed a yes or no."

"Hey," Dick replied.

After exhaling slowly, I offered, "So you are still in Gotham."

"I meant to come up this morning…"

I heard applauded from behind the curtain concealed doorway. Focusing, I responded, "It's fine. Tim and I finished sorting through the evidence. He used an alias to buy the guns and vehicles, links to a palindrome theme." Mattie reached up with a damp hand and touched my chin before I continued, "Forwards and backwards. It's not his usual style."

"Well, Harvey likes to keep things fresh. I've been looking into possible targets with Babs all day, nothing really screams Two-Face. We'll try and put the palindrome idea to work."

"Fine. I should be back home in two hours, tops."

"All right."

There was an awkward silence, and instead of filling it with an apology or at the very least a proper good-bye, I hung up and pocketed the mobile. Mattie reached for it and when I shook my head she glared at me. "Can you say please?"

Through the muffled leopard, I heard her say, "Peeh."

Handing it to her, I was left with nothing to focus on save for all of the soft white materials and excited sounds from the other side of the curtain. From what I could tell, most brides to be sought out a dress with they aide of their best friends, making a it a day of mimosas, crying and hugging. When Selina had asked me to go with her, I had instantly voiced my confusion.

She had quelled it with, "You are my best friend. And besides, I want to make sure your jaw drops when you see it on me."

Jean-Luc appeared through the curtain, "Monsieur Wayne… for your approval, yes?"

With Mattie in my lap still, I watched intently as Selina stepped through the doorway, moving to stand on a small pedestal in her bare feet. While she admired the gown in the wall to ceiling mirror, I found myself having to consciously breathe in and out.

The bodice was strapless with re-embroidered lace covering the silk under layer. Intricate beading lined the top and bottom of the corset fitted top. I rose to my feet, hefting Mattie up into my arms while admiring the curved Basque waistline and skirt of the dress. It was asymmetric with a collected drape that ran down her left leg and spread out the floor in a chapel train. The white luster satin shimmered in the soft lights of the fitting room.

I had never seen anything so beautiful in all of my life.

"What do you think?" she asked as she twirled around slowly.

I was speechless, but Mattie mumbled her opinion in an utterance of syllables.

"Thank you, sweetie," Selina grinned and stepped over and kissed Mattie's cheek before kissing me on the lips, "Told you, I needed the jaw-drop seal of approval."

"C'est fantastique," the designer clamped a hand over his trembling lips.

I nodded, my larynx still paralyzed in awe.

Although she was dressed as she would be on our wedding day, I saw through the expensive silk and beads. I saw the purple leather and stiletto heels. I saw the bullwhip and the claws. On her face, I saw a grin that had entranced me in ballrooms and rooftops.

I saw her.

^V^


	5. Life Is Good: V

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter ahs been modified from its original version.

^V^

Although I had slept soundly at Barbara's, spending the most of the day in front of a computer helping research the suspects taken into custody had promptly drained me of any energy that had accumulated. While I had complained endlessly, Barbara had showed no sympathy. While I tried to conjure a defense, she had been busy pointing out that she had gone to sleep after me, woken up before and spent even more time working that Saturday.

Hence when a call from the precinct asking for me to fill in for part of a shift was music to my ears.

Leaving Gotham at before two, I somehow made it to Bludhaven in less than forty minutes. With a clean uniform waiting for me in the locker rooms, I was able to bypass my apartment and head directly over, changing before clocking in. Making my way to scheduling, I smiled at the ill-tempered man sitting behind his never peaceful desk, "Hey, Sarge."

"Grayson, don't you have something better to do on a Saturday than showcase those dimples?" Sergeant Emmerson sighed.

Shrugging, I replied with a scowl, "You would think so."

He cleared his throat before looking up from the blinking lights of unanswered calls on his phone, "Clarks is swinging by to pick you up."

"Who was he riding with, Jonesy?" I guessed.

"No… Reynolds. Poor bastard has food poisoning, nearly shat himself in the car."

Poor bastard indeed. He would be the brunt of jokes for at least a week, or until something funnier happened to another officer. Before heading back down to the ground level, I thanked Emmerson for calling me in.

He shrugged, "Figured a young guy like yourself can never have too many hours on the payroll."

I had more in my personal checking account than he made in a year.

Making it to street level, I spotted a black-and-white idle in front of the station. Jogging down the steps, I opened the passenger side door before settling in. Joe Clark, affectionately called Clarks, smirked at me from behind the wheel, "Long time no see, Grayson…"

He was only a year older than I at twenty-four and yet he was already married and had a three-year-old daughter named Hannah. We had gone through the academy together and managed to get assigned to the same precinct. Thanks to the wise, learned and aged officers on staff, we were often referred to as the "kids". Rarely were we assigned to patrol together, a running joke that we would only go out and play at the arcade or go see a 3D matinee.

Smirking, I sat back, "Hey, the second Sarge said you needed backup, I was sold."

Clarks pulled out into traffic, reporting back on duty to dispatch. As he cruised up the street, he waited for them to copy before asking, "You look like you had a fun night."

I smirked, "Yeah, went and saw a few friends in Gotham… Ended up having a late night, didn't even get to bed until nearly four."

Clarks nodded, "Nice… I miss that… going out… Last night I watched Finding Nemo for the one millionth time with Hannah, fell asleep on the couch and woke up with my wife yelling at me for not taking the dog out at eleven…" He shook his head before turning onto Brady Ave, "Tell you what, Dick, don't get married. Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."

We worked our way through the commercial district, responding to three domestic disturbances and six calls of shoplifting. Nothing that patience and procedure couldn't handle. Although outwardly I chatted while we went from call to call, my mind was replaying the previous night over and over again. It was supposed to have been a quiet night, easing Bruce back into the swing of things. Instead, he had been dealt an inmate escaping, a fight with a dozen armed men and a bullet wound.

Barbara had pointed out that technically, it was an easy night for Batman.

Still…

"Yoohoo?"

I looked over to Clarks as he snapped his fingers at me, "What?"

"Going in to grab a coffee, I was asking if you wanted one, but I'll make sure it's dark roast."

"Thanks, man."

While he ran into the bakery, I checked my mobile, not surprised to find a message form Barbara. Police had found both of the vehicles Harvey had used during his escape, one dumped in Irving Grove and the other in the Bowery. They were scanning the area for possible witness, but I knew that was just going to be a waste of manpower. Glancing out the windshield, I noted that Clarks was chatting up the cashier, giving me ample time to check in with Barbara.

"How goes the beat?" she greeted me.

"Beat-ful. How was lunch with your Dad?"

"Good… Although his mind was elsewhere for ninety percent of the meal."

"Yeah, I bet… I'm going to close this shift then I'll be back over."

She paused before saying, "Okay. I'll let Bruce know."

As Clarks returned, I put my phone away, taking the warm coffee cup and nodding my thanks. He settled in before asking, "Who was that?"

"Girlfriend."

"Really? Didn't think you had one for some reason…" he shook his head before putting the car into drive.

"Why not? You think I'm that ugly?"

Clarks laughed, "No, it's not that… it's just… the way you work… you act like it's all you have."

He pulled back out onto the street while I defended myself, "Well, she understands, her dad's in GCPD."

"Talk about workaholics… heard that another looney toon escaped from the bin… As messed up as the Haven is, at least we don't have to worry about Two-Face and the Joker…"

I was about to respond that no one had to worry about the Joker now that he was in chemical sedation as a means of imprisonment, but a flash of movement caught my eye. An eighteen-year-old Caucasian male eyeing us warily, sporting a trench coat despite the warm, summer air. As I looked closer, there was a red strap of leather peeking out from his coat, which was attached to a purse.

Our eyes met briefly as we pulled up to a stop light and he bolted.

"We got a runner," I said before jumping out of the car.

He had a good lead on me, bumping into pedestrians and even knocking a few to the ground without even looking back. I did my best the check them as I ran by, seeing only minor scrapes and angry faces. At the red light, he dodged into a service alley leading to the rear entrance of the Patterson Hotel. I followed and retrieved my radio from my belt, "Officer Grasyon in pursuit of eighteen-year-old white male suspect, wearing beige leather coat, dark shorts, has dark hair, approximately six feet, one-sixty five. Heading North towards Clearview. Over"

I heard sirens flare up as Clarks went around in the opposite direction in hopes of cutting him off. The inevitable chain-link fence appeared, segmenting the alley property with the east side and west side of the hotel. Being that he was tall and slender and had a good dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins, he could have easily glided over the fence.

If I had let him.

"Police, stay where you are!" I called out as he closed in on the fence. I jumped up onto a dumpster and flipped over him, landed between him and the fence. The boy skidded to a stop, nearly colliding into me. His face was younger up close, now flushed and sweaty.

His eyes grew wide in fear as I grabbed him by the arm, shoving him face first into the fence before ordering him to stand still while I patted him down while growling, "I hate running in these shoes."

Just as I reached his waist, his wrist flew at to his side, returning with a small switchblade. I shook my head and threw a roundhouse that caused the knife to go airborne. His meager fists attempted to pound at my face, but his every attempt was blocked and returned with quick painful jabs to his stomach.

After four blows, he was down on the ground, coughing while being cuffed. I fished out the purse and ordered him to lay still as I stood behind him. As far as he knew, my gun was drawn. The driver's license belonged to a Marie Carter of the southern end of 'Haven, twenty-three years old with bright red hair and a worried smile. Her wallet held a Visa card and forty dollars and a number of store club cards ranging from Petco to CVS.

Clarks pulled up the alley not a moment later with another squad car behind him. While I helped the perp to his feet, I read him his Miranda rights in front of the other officers before loading him in the back of our car. Door closed, I leaned against the passenger side, pretending to be out of breath, "Bastard can run, I'll give him that."

Officer Cole from the second car laughed, "Better'n a treadmill, chasing down purse snatchers." He paused to pat the small bulge above his belt before adding, "Too bad I keep sending the rookie on the chases while I sit in the car…"

They continued joking amongst themselves while I sat heavily in the passenger seat, radioing into dispatch. I also asked if anyone had reported a purse being snatched, giving the ID information from the wallet. After a moment, the operator on the other end replied, "No, but that matches a homicide that was just called in."

Clarks was right, the Haven didn't have mastermind criminals.

What we had was a teenaged boy killing a random woman for forty bucks.

Which, in my book, was just as bad… if not worse.

^V^

In my years of service to Gotham City, I had always been baffled that when a prisoner escape took place the police force was struck with the harshest criticism as opposed to the establishments responsible for containing said escapee. There was always some upheaval over the fact that there needed to be more security measures and more staff to keep prisoners and inmates in line, but never enough. Within hours of an escape, citizens and officials alike demanded that the police go above and beyond the call of duty in order to make the city safe again.

As if we weren't trying to do so already.

Since Harvey's escape the night before, I had been inundated with calls from the press, the tabloids, victims' families, mental health activists and the mayor's office. For the most part, the calls were left unanswered, seeing how sitting and talking on the phone had no part in a manhunt. I had made it the office one last time a little after two in the morning, once the scene at the warehouse and the van crash had been secured. Even then my voicemail was full with angry complaints and overwhelming inquiries. I had opted to delete them all before leaving, rationalizing that if they really wanted to talk to me, they'd call back in the morning or they could come and see me in person.

Getting to bed late, I found myself still waking at quarter of seven feeling exhausted. Despite all I had seen and endured in my life, I didn't usually dream but that night I had found myself tossing and turning. Dark shadows and loud bangs had tortured me and something else that faded the moment I woke. I had been unable to piece it together until I was shaving, nicking myself good enough to draw blood.

I had been dreaming of Bruce, jumping into the line of fire… sacrificing his life for mine.

Although I had been let into the Family, I had not been informed of Bruce's return. Looking back, I realized that it had most likely been his plan all along, to drop in on me one night as if nothing had ever happened. The second I had heard his voice, my heart had skipped a beat before it started pounding through my chest. My eyes had a hard time convincing my brain that it had been him standing before me and not Dick.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Watching the morning news over a cup of dark roast, an English muffin and a cigarette, I had felt dread filling me at the mere thought of going in to work. Switching off the television, I had rinsed my mug and plate, putting them in the drying tack just as my cell phone rang. I had left it in the charger in the den, forcing me to walk as quickly as possibly to catch it in time.

"Hello?"

The lead on the warehouse fiasco had answered, "Sir, it's Reynolds."

"Good morning to you, too…"

"Figured you'd want to know first thing, we've got a name off of the VIN. Running it through everything we can but so far, nothing."

"So you called me at quarter after seven in the morning to tell me you have nothing?"

"Uh… no, sir… The name matches the same one we pulled off of the serial numbers for the gun."

"So you have a lot of nothing then…" I had sighed before saying, "Well, at least it's something, I'll be in by nine."

"All right, sir."

Dropping by to see Barbara had brightened my morning considerably. I had tried to contain my barrage of questions about Bruce's return and their work at the warehouse. Since Dick had told me the truth a year earlier, I had done my best to try and separate life from work, just as they had for years. I had attended dinners at the Manor, socialized with them at functions in the city and the far in between random visits. They harassed one another, they reminisced, they laughed at Mattie's antics.

And yet the dark part of their lives never surfaced.

It was no wonder they were able to hide their identities so well.

Barbara had sensed my unease and had agreed to lunch. I had suspected that she partly wanted to take my mind off of Harvey Dent running free, but also to make sure I ate something. The hours lapsing between seeing her went as expected, the continuous stream of phone calls, worthless tips trickling through and getting updates from Special Crimes. There had been some progress in looking into the actual escape, but the lead ended up being our Mr. Red Herring.

To make the morning more interesting, there was a hostage situation at First National Bank. Thankfully, when the suspect had tried to ignite his explosive to break into the vault, he had incidentally put himself and his two allies into the burn ward. Even still, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, half-expecting Barbara to be there already. Then again, she was having just as busy of a day as I was…

As I sat at the corner table, nursing an iced tea, I smiled at the thought of his return. Years earlier, when he had returned after being broken by Bane, I had been relieved beyond words. And once more, he had returned to wage his war on crime, taking back the night. This time, I thought to myself, it was different.

There was a face behind the mask. There was a man, a father, a soon-to-be husband.

I had always envisioned him as a force of nature, a superior being as opposed to just being human. When we had fought during No Man's Land, he had offered me his identity, saying it was the only thing he had left to give me. I had refused, saying that if I had wanted to know who was behind the mask, that I would. Hell, when Dick had told me the truth, he had practically confirmed suspicions that were nearly two decades old.

I didn't want to know, because I didn't want to see what was underneath the mask.

And now…

"Dad?" I heard Barbara's voice from behind me.

Without even looking, I rose and pushed the chair out of the way so that she could sit next to me. She had changed into khaki capris and a sleeveless blank shirt, prepared for the warm summer day as opposed from the climate controlled Clocktower. After I leaned over and kissed her cheek, Barbara smiled, "So, what's good here?"

"Anything," I replied as I signaled the waiter that we were ready. Barbara ordered a glass of iced tea as well and we decided to start off with house salads.

"I've driven by here but never actually ventured in. Dick said it was great, but then again he says that about anyplace he can eat at."

I smiled, "Yeah. He's not too picky."

Her drink arrived, as did the house salads. After a few moments, she spoke, "So."

I swallowed and wiped a smidge of dressing off of my lower lip. "So."

Putting her fork down, she answered my unasked question, "He's been training since May… with Dick and Cassandra. After everything came back, really it was just a matter of regaining his strength and reflexes… He's practically worked nonstop…any minute he hasn't been at work or with Selina and Mattie… he's been down there, trying to get back to where he was."

Sighing, I found myself asking, "And what does Selina think?"

Barbara's eyes belied her words, "She's happy for him… I mean, he defeated so many odds… I know it's hard, not having him around after having him practically home twenty-four-seven…"

I nodded, "I could imagine…"

"And thankfully they're finally starting to work on the wedding, so at least she'll have that to distract her from…"

The waiter returned and I realized we hadn't decided on anything. Barbara quickly ordered the lunch special, broccoli and feta pasta bowl while I opted for battered Boston cod and fries.

When we were alone, she sighed, "Dick's worried he's going to pick you."

"What?" I replied, as I stabbed a cherry tomato.

She shifted to better face me, "You've known him longer than any of us… Been through more with him… and it's not like he has any friends, really."

It sank in that she was talking about Bruce selecting a best man.

"Well, Bruce hasn't asked me. Haven't really spent much time with him lately…"

"Well, you should… it's not like he'd say no."

I sat quietly, thinking to myself, that since he had recovered, I made a somewhat conscious effort to see him in social settings as opposed to simply spending alone time with him. Deep down, I had always wanted to ask how Bruce felt about Dick telling me the truth, but had never allowed myself to make the mistake of doing so.

At the peak of my self-thought, the waiter returned once more and set our food down. We ate in silence for a few moments before I found myself changing the pace of the conversation, asking about how things were between her and Dick. Their relationship had always been a mystery to me, but in the last year it had remained fairly steady and increasingly serious. I had wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, and seeing her with Dick Grayson certainly fit the bill.

One wedding at a time, I reminded myself.

When our waiter returned with the check, I snatched it before Barbara had a chance to do so herself. As we headed out, she made me promise to take it easy and to let Bruce run himself ragged while obsessing over Harvey. She offered to give me a ride back to the station, but I declined, citing that I needed a short walk before hunkering back down in my office. Kissing her good bye, I waited until she was in her Range Rover and pulling out into traffic before sighing.

Maybe a sit down with Bruce was exactly what I needed, a chance to clear the air, shed some weight from my shoulders. And perhaps Bruce needed to let off some steam, about his recovery, returning to the cowl or life in general.

After all, who better to lend his troubles to than another father?

^V^

After Bruce and Selina left, I trekked back upstairs in order to shower and change into one of the few spare sets of clothing I kept there. Finishing my training first thing in the morning had cleared the rest of the day, although it meant I technically had nothing to do.

No, that wasn't entirely true, I thought as I sat on the bed.

I had computer work I could have started or I could have read through all of the logs Bruce had written about the evidence.

I could have meditated or taken a nap or at the very least watched some television.

Instead, I decided to seek out the only other living person in the expansive house.

I found Alfred in the kitchen, looking as if he also was at a loss of what to do. Despite the mild weather, he was sporting a green cardigan, sleeves pulled down to his wrists. I watched as he wrung his hands for a moment in silence. Then, without warning, he left the kitchen, heading towards the service corridor.

I retreated as well, ending up in the study. Unlocking the entrance behind the clock, I navigated down the granite steps in darkness. I always felt bad interrupting the bats were sleeping during the day, often only turning on the bare essential auxiliary lights.

When I had the Cave to myself, I often only used the training bay, wanting to work without interruption or distraction. As I made it to the main tier, I paused before walking over to the computer bay. Hesitating again, I finally sat down.

His chair.

Having been already up and running the monitor came to life when I said, "Computer, search video."

The screen filled with a list of all the video files on the computer, literally thousands if clips ranging from activity logs to surveillance records. In order to narrow it down, I asked for, "Computer, search video training."

I skimmed through them until I found the ones I wanted, keying in a command so that they would play, one after another.

The first was of him, dressed in loose white linen pants with his black belt secured around his waist. I watched as he performed dynamic movements of Aikido, using momentum, joint blocks and inertia to take down his invisible opponent. I skipped to the a following video, highlighting the withdraw and attack methods of Bando Thaing. Next had been Choi Kwang Do, a style he favored given how it combined knowledge of anatomy, biomechanics, neurophysiology and kinesiology with each and every blow.

Movie clip after movie clip showed him documenting his skills and routines.

All taken nearly fifteen years ago.

When I had first joined his war, he had made me watch the clips for hours on end, as means of expanding my knowledge of martial arts beyond the practical use and to the theoretical aspects and origins. At the time, I had seen it as punishment or even imprisonment, torturing me until I was fit for duty under his standards.

While he had recovered from getting shot by Pasqualle, I had watched them religiously, wanting to see him alive, wanting to see him as he once was…

I had just reached the clip documenting the more harmonious Hapkido, I heard footsteps followed by, "Researching, miss?"

I shook my head, looking over my shoulder to watch him approach. I smiled to see that he had brought a tray of sandwiches and a glass of water along with a cup of tea. After setting them down on the workbench, I continued to watch in silence as he pulled over another chair and sat himself beside me.

"They home?" I asked as I reached over for an chicken salad sandwich.

"Not yet. Master Bruce had quite the afternoon scheduled."

"Doing what?" I said through a mouthful.

Alfred shook his head and I smiled at him. Alfred cared for me, but not my absent manners. He cleared his throat before responding, "Well, I do believe they were taking Miss Mattie to the zoo and then out to lunch. Afterwards, they were to visit Mr. Roblier for selecting a dress."

"Dress?" I asked after swallowing.

"Indeed. For the wedding."

I nodded and took another bite, watching as he selected a half of a sandwich for himself. Everyone seemed happy that they were getting married, once they were over being surprised. I supposed it made sense, that they wanted to be together, for each other and for Mattie. He certainly seemed happier with Selina than before, when he was alone.

Thinking about the night before, of him literally throwing himself to the wolves made me wonder if being married would be the only normal thing in their lives…

As the bats squeaked above us, we ate lunch in silence, watching the remainder of the video clips. Alfred had known him forever, since when he was a baby. He had showed me a photo album once of him as a child. Pictures of his parents, too, back when he was a cute little boy, with lots of smiles.

By the time we had viewed all of his work videos, we had finished the sandwiches as well. Alfred had asked if I desired anything more to eat and I shook my head, prompting the next set of videos. I had expected them to be more records of his abilities, perhaps of gymnastic work or escape artistry, instead we came a set of recorded log entries. Often when he returned home after particularly troubling nights, he would verbally record his logs in order to write them out later.

The first one to come up was about an encounter with Harvey Dent, looking sad and defeated as he spoke.

Without warning, I shut it off.

I didn't like seeing him that way.

Alfred cleared his throat, "Well, it has been quite the afternoon, miss. However, I have a few errands to run in town…"

"I'll come."

"That's quite all right, Miss Cassandra, it isn't necessary for you to…"

"I want to. Please?"

His eyebrows rose slightly as he stood, "Very well. I'll tend to cleaning up lunch while you freshen up a bit."

I followed him upstairs, hitting the lights to leave the bats to their darkness. While Alfred headed towards the kitchen, I ran upstairs to brush my hair before putting it into a chaotic bun. A minute of searching revealed my sneakers to be under the bed and I donned them before jogging back downstairs. Alfred stood at the end of the stairs and escorted us to the garage, but before we stepped into the garage, I asked, "I drive?"

The terrified look on his face made me laugh before admitting, "Just kidding."

We went east off of the private drive and headed towards the city. Just across the Bristol Bridge, he pulled off towards a small collection of markets and shops spelt "Shoppe". I followed him as he purchased fruits at one stand, vegetables at the next and then on towards a small bakery. The man on the other side of the counter gave me a free cupcake and called me a "cutie".

After offering to carry some bags countless times, Alfred finally relented and let me carry a small bag of baguettes and the fruit he had selected. I knew that a man named Arliss delivered the main groceries to the Manor every other week, but apparently there were some things he wanted to do himself. Every so often, I had asked why he was squeezing certain fruit or why he asked the clerks certain questions, and he seemed genuinely pleased to explain the art of shopping to me.

Much like me, he tended to do most of his work alone and enjoyed company when the moment was right.

After buying a few jars of apple butter from the store across from the bakery, Alfred led us back to the car. We set the purchases in the trunk and then got back in the vehicle, although I refused to sit in the back, causing Alfred to fight back a smirk. And when we arrived, I beat him to the trunk, grabbing the heaviest items as he scoffed at me.

Before we made our way to the service entrance, another car pulled up the drive, waiting for the door to open before pulling in to the empty bay beside us. Alfred smiled as the car halted and the doors opened, "Good afternoon, Master Bruce, Ms. Selina. How did we fair this afternoon?"

Bruce stepped out of the car first, nodding at me silently before he moved to the back door in order to get Mattie. Selina answered, "Very productive… and it was beautiful out, to boot. Had a nice picnic, didn't we, kiddo?"

Once she was out of her car seat, Mattie rubbed her sleepy eyes, looked at Alfred and I and then pressed her face into Bruce's neck. He rubbed her back and said, "Can't say hello, kitten?"

Mattie picked her head up again, turning it to me just as I smiled at her.

We followed them inside, veering off to the kitchen where they continued to the main corridor. Although I managed to bring groceries inside, Alfred managed to kick me out of the kitchen. I followed the sounds of voices to the den, smiling to see Bruce sitting with Mattie on the couch. Walking in, I chose to sit on the adjacent chair, pleased to see Mattie seemed to be more awake after her car ride nap.

Bruce handed her a plush black cat as I asked, "Have fun, Mattie?"

She smiled and extended her arms, in which she held a stuffed black cat. I reached out and stroked the top of its softly, "Pretty kitty."

He watched the exchange with a faint smirk on his face, then leaned over to look at Mattie's face, "Tell Cass, you saw lions and tigers and bears…" kissing her neck before adding, "Oh my!"

She erupted in laughter and squirmed to get away from him. Sitting upright, he picked her up off of his lap and held her above his face. She gripped the stuffed leopard, crying out when he bit the toy, trying to rip it away from him. A grin had spread over his face as he removed his teeth from the synthetic panther, one he maintained as he lowered her to kiss her cheek.

Maybe he wasn't who he once was.

And maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

^V^

Leaving Bruce and Mattie in the den, I went upstairs to drop the diaper bag off in the nursery. I was impressed that he had managed to maintain the carefree façade for the duration of the afternoon, letting it falter only once or twice when he thought I wasn't looking. Even as he had held my hand on the car ride down, kissed me at the park and smirked at me at Roblier's, I knew his mind had been elsewhere. The only time he had seemed entirely there had been when Mattie had grabbed his attention.

Making my way to the master bedroom, I kicked my shoes off and took a seat on the bed. I reclined slowly, resting my hands on my stomach as I let my head lull to the right. Bruce's nightstand was barren save for the lamp and phone and when I looked to the left, I smirked to see mine occupied by a matching lamp, the clock and a stack of dog-eared magazines and one of Mattie's teething toys. Alfred's suggestion to read while Bruce was gone would require actual books, given how quickly I sped through the periodicals.

"Mrrow."

I felt Isis jump onto the bed before she sauntered up to my face. Rubbing her chin on mine, her purrs were loud and soothing, growing stronger when I reached up and traced my nails over her face. I clucked softly to her and she proceeded to rub her face up and down my cheek.

"I missed you, too, baby."

Having left the door open, the first sound I heard in thirty minutes, save for Isis, was Bruce's near silent footsteps as he entered. I waved from the bed but made no effort to get up, even when he asked, "Nap time?"

"I wish."

He headed into the bathroom while saying, "Just put Mattie down."

"She fall asleep again?"

Bruce didn't reply until he emerged a moment later, having removed his shirt and sweater. Carrying a tube of antibiotic ointment, he said, "She was just getting fussy… Needs to get back on a routine."

He sat on the edge of the bed and took the top off, putting small dollops over the various lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. I began to rub his lower back with my bare foot, reaching up to rest my foot on his trapezium before eliciting no response.

"How's the arm?" I asked, watching Isis as she walked to the edge and jumped down.

"Tender," he replied quietly as he began to pick at a scab on his side.

"Let me see," I said while sitting upright, crawling over to sit to his right side. The bandage was still adhered tightly to his skin and I smirked before ripping it off in one fell move.

He winced before glaring at me, "Ow."

"Crybaby," I shook my head while observing the wound. The sutures he had redone were noticeable against Alfred's precise lines. Even still, the wound was unanimously red and angry, stark against the bruised tissue.

He caught me looking and said, "It'll probably scar."

"The one clean spot you had on this arm," I noted, gently tracing my hand down from his shoulder to his wrist.

Bruce lifted his arm suddenly and pointed to his elbow, "That's clean."

"Ah, but the night is young."

For a moment, something happened to his face, a combination of deep thought and equally deep suffering. He exhaled softly before returning his attention to putting ointment on the wounds, "Cassandra said she would stay upstairs, if you wanted someone to keep an ear out for Mattie."

I shook my head, "That's all right, I might actually take a nap myself."

The look flashed over his face again, tinted with guilt. He covered it by saying, "Figured you would have been spent after yelling at me…"

Reclining again, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the middle of the back, targeting a broad bruise. Instead of wincing again, he smirked. Task completed despite my attempts to interrupt him, he capped the tube and looked over at me, "I'll be back up by seven."

"Better be."

Before rising, he leaned over me, resting his weight on one hand, kissing me quickly. I encouraged him to stay a moment longer and the fact that he resisted had me biting the inside of his lower lip. When I let go of him, he remained hovering over me but opted to push himself away slightly, for safety's sake.

"Selina…"

"I know… All work and no play," I leaned forward and kissed him again, "Seven."

"Seven."

I waited until he had left before sitting up again, reaching for the phone when I was sure he wasn't going to peek back in. Dialing, I waited for three long rings to pass before hearing Barbara ask, "A day on the town and you didn't invite me?"

"What?" I replied.

"I went out to dinner with Dad, driving out I saw Bruce picking you two up from the park."

"Ah yes," I smiled before recounting the afternoon we had spent in Gotham. She also was sad that we had not taken any pictures of Mattie at the zoo, and volunteered to go with us the next time to see that some were. I then inquired about spending time with her father and how he was taking to Harvey's escape.

"As well as he can. Out of any of them, having Harvey out always seems to make it harder to deal with."

"So I've noticed," I sighed.

"Surprised you were able to drag him out of the Cave."

"We compromised. He could work all morning if he could spare me a few hours in the afternoon. And I think it helped having Tim running errands for him at the city impound."

"Yes, he was a busy little bird," she remarked, "Not a ton of trace evidence unfortunately, but he found weapons hidden under the carpet, tipped Special Crimes and celebrated with Starbucks… Like any good sidekick… Oh, hold on," she sighed before speaking again, "I found more connections to Joseph Hayden. Townhouse rental started that a month ago in the Bowery. Deposit and two months rent paid in cash. Had to break into a sixty-year-old woman's Quickbooks files but… 202 Alula Street… Wouldn't doubt it…"

"Barbara, I can go…"

"No, I'll just be a second," she said to me, and then, "No, not you… It's called multi-tasking." After another sigh, "No Bruce like a driven Bruce."

"Regrettably true," I paused before repeating, "If you need to work, I can go…"

"No, I haven't spoke with a single member of our species all day, and if I don't I might declare war on the other one. So, what else did you do, aside from the zoo and the park?"

"Actually we had to go to the designers… I think I found a dress."

"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Did Bruce wait in the car?"

"No, I actually had him go in with me…" and for some reason I added, "I wanted to make sure he liked it."

"Selina… you could wear a trash bag and he'd still go ga-ga."

"I know… I don't know…" I stared down at the ring on my left hand, "Can I confess something?"

Barbara hesitated before saying, "Only as long as this confession isn't going to include me having to do a spit-take… I just poured this cup of coffee…"

"No, it's nothing like that," I found myself reclining again, although positioning myself to lay on Bruce's side, the faint smell of his cologne permeating from the pillows and through the duvet. "It's just… I honestly never though I would be trying on wedding dresses… picking out a date… Not just with Bruce… I just never thought it would come to that point."

"Wow. Feeling romantic aren't we… what did he do to piss you off?"

I smirked, "Nothing. Yet."

"He sounded like he was in trouble…"

"Well if he doesn't show his face to feed his child, he will be… "I guess, even after everything that's happened… It still catches me off guard."

"I can imagine, I still have trouble picturing him changing a diaper."

I laughed briefly, "Diffuse a bomb, strangle the Joker, find a cure for Scarecrow toxin… really a diaper is nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"I have changed that child's diaper, trust me, it's in the same category," Barbara sighed before saying, "Well, he beckons once more… if I get a lull, I'll give you a call. You can tell me more about how you're not mad at Bruce."

We both knew there wouldn't be one and that I wouldn't hear from her until the morning, and still I said, "Sure thing." After hanging up, I got to my feet, calling for Isis, "Come on, baby, let's go peruse the library. It's going to be a long night."

^V^


	6. Life Is Good: VI

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter ahs been modified from its original version.

^V^

With Cassandra heading to the Clocktower and Tim finally making his way home, it had only been myself, Selina and Mattie attending dinner. I shared my plate of grilled chicken breasts in an apricot citrus sauce with my daughter, although she was less impressed with the broccoli, asparagus and diced tomatoes. After she had her fill, Alfred arrived with a fresh plate for me, citing I would have no problem clearing both.

"Growing boy," Selina joked, reaching over to pat my stomach.

Finally eating myself, I focused more on putting away forkfuls as opposed to conversing with Selina. When Mattie grew fussy in her high chair, Selina rose before I could, picking her up in order to let her sit at the table. Once Mattie was on her mother's lap, she calmed, reaching out to grasp the linen.

"Ready for dessert, kiddo?" she asked before kissing the top of Mattie's head.

"If there's room," I wiped my mouth before sitting back.

Selina said, "First lesson, my child, there is always room for dessert. Especially if Alfred is making lemon cream cake."

Mattie laughed at that, then focused back to the task of trying to steal a spoon off of the table.

After dessert, we retired to the den briefly, letting Mattie crawl about on the carpet while Selina and I sat together on the couch. I legitimately tried not to check my watch every five minutes, or not to look longingly at the door. When Selina caught me, she leaned against my arm and said, "Five more minutes."

I stayed for another eight, four of which I spent on the floor, with Mattie sitting on my chest. As she grinned down at me, I spotted the new tooth that had finally erupted on her lower jaw, the agony of awaiting its arrival finally over. I picked her up just as my watch hit eight, "I think it's bath time, kitten."

Selina stood from the couch, "It's hair washing night."

Looking to Selina, I sighed, "I have to get going."

As she took Mattie from me, Selina sighed, "It's fine, I'll have Alfred help me."

When she went to leave the room, I promptly followed, "Selina, I would-."

She turned around and smiled, "Bruce, don't worry about it," pausing as I paused before her, "It's no big deal."

My mother used to put the same face on whenever my father left mid-meal for the hospital. Or whenever he left before a birthday party. Or Christmas.

I leaned over and kissed them both, hesitating before saying, "I'll call."

Selina replied, "Just don't wake me up when you come to bed."

"I won't."

After watching her walk away, bouncing Mattie in her arms and cooing to her, I headed towards the study, stomaching a sudden sense of guilt with the lemon cream cake. Descending the cold steps, I found myself in the Cave alone for the first time in far too long. The night before came to mind, but with Alfred and Selina and Dick and Tim and Cass coming and going, it was quickly denounced.

Alone. Screeching from above reminded me that I was far from it.

I had to literally force myself to the training bay, knowing that if I started at the lab or the computer, I wouldn't break free before heading out. Given how stiff I had been upon waking that morning, I had only worked on stretching exercises briefly after breakfast. Anticipating another physically strenuous evening, I opted to stick to fairly light drills on the training mats, not even bothering with weights. Enough to get the blood pumping, enough to imagine opponents falling to their knees.

Setting the computer to scan activity and highlight key points that needed touring, I toweled off and suited up. Given how poorly the warehouse had gone, I doubled my reserve of gas pellets and batarangs, inserted brass plates into my gauntlets and donned the heavier cape with the lead weights in the tips. It added a total of fifteen more pounds to the already heavy suit, a weight I would willingly carry.

Pulling the cowl into place, I returned to the computer bay, "Oracle?"

Her image came up before she responded, "Robin and Batgirl are already out, jumpstart on patrols through the east side."

"And Nightwing?" I graveled, sorting through the list on the screen. Excessive calls coming in from the Bowery, Little Stockton and even the Village.

She paused before saying, "He's on his way from Bludhaven now."

"I thought he was here already?"

"No, got called in."

Dick had a number of responsibilities since he had reached adulthood, excluding his self-imagined identity. Aside from college, he had undertaken the grand task of funding his childhood circus, making it so that any foreseeable economic difficulties would never be cause for concern. After bouncing from job to job as a means of giving Dick Grayson stability, he had arrived on entering the police academy, graduating with honors and a prompt placement in the Bludhaven Police Department.

At first, it had been difficult to even think of him in uniform let alone in a city as corrupt and violent as Gotham once had been. More police officers were shot and stabbed every year in Bludhaven, not to mention their funding was considerably less in regards to supplying body armor and combative training. Granted, Dick had an incalculable advantage to those he served with, but fighting crime in the broad daylight was completely different than doing so in the safety of the dark.

When it was boiled down, my true concern had and would always lie with the fact that he was armed with a nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson. A 5906 pistol made of stainless steel with double action feeding for fifteen round clips, firing bullets upwards of twelve-hundred feet per second. Standard issue for the BPD and also one of the most affordable and easily accessible weapons to obtain on the streets.

I had seen Dick in uniform a not much more than a dozen times, most of which had been during my recovery. Every time, my eyes had never focused on his face, the glossy badge on his chest nor the polished boots on his feet. Anytime I had seen him decked in black, my eyes had fallen to the gun holstered at his hip. In his training to become Robin, I had taught him that guns were never meant to be feared, only respected. He had to learn the ballistics of fired rounds from anything from a purse pistol to an sniper's rifle, in addition to learned how the weapons themselves operated.

He had earned two certificates at the academy for marksmanship.

He was trying to make a difference from the inside, something I could have never done.

Alfred had gone to see him graduate, to watch him take his oath…

"Any rate, still haven't found any targets remotely worth Harvey's attention. Batgirl's already check out the town house on Alula Street, definitely signs of being inhabited for the last month but no one was there tonight. She left sensors and recorders everywhere, so if they do go back, we'll know first thing."

"Keep her patrolling the area."

"Done," she replied.

"Have Robin move to Waverly Place, there's been six carjacking this week alone.."

"Also done…"

Of course, I grunted, she had been acting without me for over a year, he didn't need me to tell her what to do, barking orders.

Rising to my feet, I stared up at the monitor as I told her, "Have Nightwing start on the docks as he comes through."

"Sure thing…" she paused before saying, "And Bruce?"

I didn't like it when she called me that, not with the cowl firmly in place. Then again, she had never concerned herself with what I preferred, something that had once been aggravating.

That was before.

She finally said, "Be careful."

I opted not to respond, only shutting the connection. Rising to my feet, I heard Alfred from behind me, "Wise words, sir, perhaps wise enough to adhere to."

Glancing at him, I felt like snapping something back at him, but found myself asking, "How are they?"

"Miss Mattie has been bathed and is being put to bed as we speak."

"Good… Tell her… I'll call later."

He nodded curtly, "Very good, sir."

^V^

Waverly Place was a nice enough neighborhood, packed full of brownstones and townhouses, off-street parking for shiny imports and plenty of middle-aged fitness fanatics jogging with their Labradoodles. For the most part, we rarely patrolled the area, opting to focus our limited time to parts of the city that statistically guaranteed criminal activity. In fact, the last time I had been through the pristine streets had been seven months earlier, investigating a missing persons case that ended with a twelve-year-old girl hiding in an attic as to not have to eat cauliflower.

When numerous stolen car reports had popped up in the span of a week, it had raised a very pretty flag in Waverly Place. I had told Barbara that I was going to check it out before getting to work on another night of questing for Two-Face. She had agreed, promising to let me know if anything more urgent than socialites getting held at gunpoint came up. Deep down, I had hoped that she wouldn't call, that nothing would come up.

I had categorized the previous night as a failure, despite the evidence we had collected and the suspects we had in custody. Looking through it all, it didn't tell us what Harvey was planning, where he was or when he was going to strike. Granted, it was only his first night out or Arkham, but he had obviously put a considerable amount of effort in to getting a head start. The townhouse and warehouse, weapons, collection of thugs and vehicles…

Then again, Two-Face was once District Attorney Harvey Dent and Harvey Dent was a brilliant lawyer, able to put away the most sinister of criminals through unwavering prosecution.

"Robin?"

"Yes," I whispered over the comm. Link, hidden on my perch in a massive oak tree.

"Just thought I'd let you know, the boss wants you to check on the car thefts."

"Oh, does he?" I asked.

"I told him you were already on it."

"Gee, thanks. Now I'll definitely get the gold star…"

She snickered before saying, "You were already in the lead, going to impound… suck up."

"I prefer sycophant," I whispered, "Oops, gotta go."

A glossy black Lexus sedan was crawling up the street, the driver naturally talking on her cell phone instead of keeping a watchful eye. Parking on the street, in front of a fire hydrant no less, she killed the ignition, still chatting away. Had she been mildly responsible, she would have noticed the two men that had come out of her neighbor's hedges.

I was torn between letting them actually get up to the vehicle to frighten her into being a more responsible citizen, but decided it was better to play it safe. The two perps were of little consequence, mid-twenties, roughly the same build at five-six and five-eight. Dressed in jeans, hooded sweatshirts and ball caps, I noted they also had been mildly intelligent enough to wear leather gloves.

They were twenty feet away from the car when I dropped down, choosing to make them suffer mildly instead of instantly taking them out with my bo staff. A squarely planted kick to the solar plexus of the short caused him to topple into his accomplice. Being young and spry, they managed to keep on their feet.

The taller one, sporting his loyalty to the Packers, whipped his small pistol out, "I'll shoot you, punk!"

I smirked before driving forward, chopping his wrist down before landing a blow to the cluster of nerves above his shoulder. He roared in pain before his arm went numb, dropping the gun at his feet. When his companion reached for it, I slammed my elbow into his cheek, sending a tooth flying before he joined it on the pristine sidewalk. I then spun around, swiping out the midsection of the thug remaining with my right leg. As he gracefully fell on top of his partner, I finally picked the gun up, not surprised to see it was empty of bullets.

"Clever, boys, real clever."

Bagging the weapon, I proceeded to cuff them to one another, anchoring them to the end of a wrought iron fence. Looking over to the Lexus, I smiled and waved at the young woman, standing in silent terror, her hand still holding the cell up to her ear. I assured her they weren't going to hurt her and informed her that the police were on their way. She blinked, closed her gaping mouth and asked, "Can I have your number?"

All I could think of to say was, "Uh… sorry, we don't usually make house calls."

I had parked my cycle three blocks over, hidden between a pair of birch trees at the rear of a dog park. Making my way back, I listened to the police scanner over my ear piece, somewhat relieved that nothing of importance. I had to dip into the hedges once when the squad car came around the corner, lights flashing. Once they passed, I jogged the final fifty yards, only to find my bike was gone.

"You have got to be kidding me…" I sighed before looking up and down the street, I hadn't heard a cycle start up… unless it was masked by the sirens…

"You are too easy, man…"

I spun around to see Nightwing pushing the cycle towards me, "You ass."

"Dick," he smirked as he paused before me, putting the kickstand out before letting the cycle rest. "Selling cookies or fighting crime?"

"Funny," I threw a leg over the bike, "Carjackers."

"Ah, you called that in." He was maintaining the lightness in his voice, but up close he looked practically dismal. Perhaps another haggard day on the beat had reminded him of the horrors of the humanity. Or maybe he had washed a red sock with the white towels at the Clocktower.

I looked over after a few silent moments and asked, "So?"

He shrugged his shoulders as his brow deepened in thought.

I offered a smile, "You've been hanging out with Bruce way too much."

His face hardened, "No. The opposite. I haven't been spending anytime with Bruce. Just him."

I nodded, for there was no explanation needed. The same could have been said for me. In the last year I had spent more time with Bruce than I had in my entire life. There were times since his recovery that he let the armor crack, that we had a glimpse of the man we had come to know. For the most part, he had been all business with us, as if he was trying to deny the relationship we had all developed with him.

Alfred had said over the summer that Bruce now had to deal with the man he was, the man he became and the man he needs to be.

It was no wonder he was grouchy.

Silence returned as our trained eyes caught movement down the street. We watched carefully as another pair of young men stepped out from seclusion, prompted by oncoming headlights. They were bolder than the men I had encountered, racing out into the street in order to stop them with distraction before sealing the deal with the wave of a gun.

"Well, well… what do we have here," Nightwing smirked before jumping on the back of the cycle.

We closed the quarter of a mile in seconds, racing by the man at the driver's side door so that Nightwing could knock him down with an escrima stick. By the time the accomplice realized what was happening, we had already turned around and started coming after him. Fruitlessly, he started running, flailing his arms in a way that made my passenger laugh in my ear.

"Batter up," Nightwing called out, his escrima stick on the ready.

I radioed into dispatch again, after I made Nightwing stop laughing.

Avoiding approaching police cars, I took him back to his own cycle, also conveniently hiding in the dark dog park. After I cut the ignition, he hopped of while asking, "Where's the big guy? Couldn't have anything big on Dent if he has you out here."

"I came out on my own, figured something was up." I nearly asked what was wrong

"Atta bird," he retrieved his helmet from the side compartment.

Nightwing was about to speak again when Oracle sounded on the open line, "We aren't lounging around, are we?"

"No," Nightwing responded, "We are… on our way… to… the Clocktower?"

"No. The palindrome theme may be capoot. County Judge Ray Harding is missing, I need one of you there to look the scene over."

We started our cycles, taking off down the empty an all-too quiet street. On the small console, the LED screen brought up a GPS navigation map. Highlighting our position, it showed the optimum route into Stockton and to the judge's penthouse.

Leading the way, I heard Nightwing in my earpiece, "Maybe Harvey is getting predictable in his old age."

"GCPD is already posting guard on judicial figures, but they were too late for the DA."

"Harvey nabbed him, too?" I questioned.

There was a pause before she replied, "Harvey killed him and his wife. Took their kids."

"Jesus," Nightwing sighed.

She proceed, as professional as ever, "Batman is taking a look at the DA's house. Batgirl is maintaining patrols, if one of you would be so kind as to help her.

Before Nightwing could speak, "I replied, I'll take the penthouse."

Had it been any other crime scene, he would have contested for a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. We often squabbled over who had to patrol the wharf and the sulfur stagnant Narrows, not to mention fighting over who had to baby sit obnoxious and unappreciative victims until the police arrived.

If there hadn't been two bodies on the way to the morgue and two orphaned children being held hostage by Harvey Dent, surely he would have demanded at least two out of three.

^V^

The sky was surprisingly clear in the district of Stockton, far from the factories and salty barges and relentless commuter traffic. A good wind was also responsible, bringing up a storm system from down in Virginia. Although the day had seen a high of eighty-nine, the thermometer readout on the unmarried's dash had shown it to be nearly fifty-nine. Alone in the car, I took a deep breath before opening the door, opting to bring my coat along with me.

The former District Attorney Darrel Sturgis had lived modestly on his city salary. In court, he had sported tailored suits and drove a leased Audi, his townhouse had been two stories of slate blue trimmed in navy on a tiny lot. The hedges were military crisp and spotted with rose bushes that had been carefully tended to. There were outdoor toys stored in the garage, organized as best as having two young kids would allow.

He had been in office for only a year, focusing intently on putting and end to money laundering and ousting crooked corporations. He had served six years as the Assistant DA in Chicago, something that had certainly bought him points in my book. Working alongside him had been like working with a younger and more optimistic version of myself. Then again, when I had been a younger man, I hadn't seen the awful things that life would bring…

He had been tall, well muscled with broad shoulders and long legs, an avid fan of swimming and racquetball as opposed to basketball or football. His wife, as I recalled from what few functions I had seen her at, was tiny next to him, barely five-four and carrying only one hundred and twenty pounds on her frame. She worked at at-risk youth centers in the worst part of towns, reaching out to a community that she had emerged from herself.

I had never met their children, but my only wish was to find them alive so that I might.

Not an hour earlier, I had received an anonymous tip that Judge Harding had possibly been kidnapped. Immediately, I had made the call that every off duty officer available was to report in. Stationing them at all judiciary officials homes and places of work meant over six hundred officers just sitting and waiting. Another three hundred had reported in and were stretched throughout the city, following leads and tips however ridiculous.

With forensics and detectives scouring Harding's place, a similar scene was unfolding before me. Flashing lights, SUV's double parked, radios squawking and seemingly and endless stream of people walking about, wearing either forensic jackets or police uniforms.

I walked by them, pretending to yell into my phone so that I would fit in.

Making my way behind the small garage, I found a small swatch of fenced in grass, most of it taken up by a cedar play ground, complete with swings, a slide and small clubhouse.

It was the only place he could find proper concealment.

"He's certainly not wasting time," I sighed.

"I need them to clear out," Batman growled, stepping out from behind the ladder.

I nodded, "I had the coroner leave the bodies."

"Who's on the case?"

I searched my mind, "They're from Little Stockton, this precinct doesn't have a homicide division. Two detectives, Aaron Carpenter and Peter Scalvian. Good guys, good heads on them… also not afraid to get a little outside help." there was no point in discussing what few details we had, namely how the babysitter had arrived to find the children gone and their parents shot to death. He had never walked into a crime scene without knowing every minute detail he could muster before crossing the yellow tape.

Else wise, it would have been a waste of his time.

I glanced back towards the house while reaching for my radio, "Carpenter, it's Gordon."

"Yeah, Commish?"

"Clear them out."

There was a pause before, "Copy that."

He studied the patio entrance from the rear of the house from a distance before closing in, examining the door for forced entry. I watched as he appraised a small pink bicycle with training wheels and sparkly streamers on the handlebars that sat on the small deck. Light flooding out from the kitchen had put a literal spot light on his face, showing the intense focus in his eyes and stoic grimace on his lips. Where he had been able to contain his poise, I had let a shudder run down my spine.

"All clear, Commish," came over the radio and without waiting for me, he stepped inside.

Entering the kitchen slowly, I watched him as he eyed everything with the same focused look. I had always thought that he viewed the entire world in an analytical way, and not only crime scenes and evidence. Criminals, cops, peers and even me. His mind never rested, never stopped spinning the wheels, which no doubt had made his year recovering from amnesia torturous.

I followed as he progressed through the immaculate house, adorned with family portraits, framed finger paintings and certificated of achievement. There was no outward sign of a struggle, no indication that there were two bodies upstairs waiting for black bags. Batman paused and crouched a number of times, using sterile tools to pick up fibers or to photograph seemingly nothing on the floor. The tip about the serial numbers and VIN belonging to the same person had come from him, naturally, hours before our forensics put things together.

While they had been sleeping, he had been hunched over a microscope somewhere.

The children's rooms were to the left and right of the top of the stairs. The boy's room was dimly lit and in a normal disarray of preteen hood. Dirty clothes, crumpled paper balls and a wide variety of sports equipment showing he had different tastes than his father. The girl's room was painted purple and was inundated with horses with pictures, figurines and books covered the living space. Although not as disorganized as the brother's room, to the naked eye, nothing out of place aside from empty beds.

Approaching the master bedroom, Batman stood for a moment, mentally preparing himself for the bloodbath within. We hadn't exchanged a single word since entering the house, and his knowing where each of the rooms were had me wondering if he had taken a look at the residential blueprints. I had yet to enter the room myself and couldn't fight the feeling of dread in my stomach as he reached for the doorknob.

He and I had seen the best of what Harvey Dent was capable and the worst that Two-Face could unleash.

The light shades of tan and sand gave the blood a startling contrast. Charla had been on the bed, reading when she took two bullets to the temple. Although bloodied, her face was still peaceful with the mask of slumber, the book still held loosely in her right hand. According the babysitter, the Sturgis' were going out for dinner and a movie. The late DA's wife appeared to have been dressed and ready in a knee length black skirt and what had once been a coral fitted blouse.

Darrel Sturgis had still been getting ready, wearing black socks, dark slacks and an unbuttoned blue dress shirt. Batman crouched next to the fallen body that sprawled over the stained rug, his neck was bruised and irritated as from being strangled. The coroner had preliminarily reported that asphyxiation hadn't occurred, however, that death had resulted from a two gunshot wounds to the back of the skull, severing the brainstem before exiting out his throat.

Batman rose effortlessly and toured the room, moving into the adjoined bathroom before returning, "He shot her first, silencer. Had his men already holding the children, possibly downstairs in the den."

I nodded but remained silent.

"He wanted Sturgis to come running out of the bathroom, had someone grab him and put him in a chokehold… showed him his wife… But something went wrong, coin was supposed to come up heads."

Finally, I said, "Heads, simply take him and tails would be-."

"Death," he turned to face me, "Whatever he's doing, he needs two hostages…"

"But why take the children, that makes three? If he was so willing to kill the wife… why not just take the DA, leave the kids… or kill them?" I asked himself quietly.

He paused in thought before physically jerking, "The boy was twelve, and the girl was-."

I gasped, "Six years old. Half his age. How could he have resisted?"

To my surprise, he returned to the body of the DA and studied the floor around him, "No shoes."

After a moment, he stood, traversing the room to look in the closet. I followed, watching from above as he scanned the various men's shoes on a rack. He quickly sought out a pair of black leather Kenneth Cole slip-ons that had been placed backwards compared to the others.

Inside one was a blank business card; the other held a crudely folded orange piece of construction paper. I moved closer as he said, "Addresses. Manchester and Irving Grove. Both say midnight or else."

"Oh God," I uttered while looking the scraps over in his gloved hands, "I'll send the closest units-."

"No. Don't," he growled, putting the notes in his belt before running to the window.

"You can't be in two places at once!" I called out as he proceeded to open the window.

He glanced back at me, "I don't need to be," before jumping out.

By the time I made it over and looked down, he was gone.

^V^

Once upon a time, the evening news broadcast was a mildly respectable program, highlighting events that had taken place throughout the world and noting special interests of a more local nature. As the years progressed, the news media seemed to grow increasingly dependent on tragedies and scandals to provide them with suitable ratings. Warnings of very rare diseases and disorders, conflicts blown out of proportion and the ridiculous obsession with the personal affairs of celebrities had put me off watching any news broadcast, no matter what time it aired.

And yet there I was, sitting in the den with Ms. Selina, watching a new bulletin at eleven-thirty in the evening. The focal point was none other than escapades generated by Harvey Dent, which were regrettably being reported in a factual manner.

Following dinner, Ms. Selina had sought me out in order to aide in bathing Miss Mattie. Although the young child loved sitting in a warm bath, she was quite resistant to having her thick locks of hair washed and rinsed. Due to her insistence, it was often only tended to every other night, with Master Bruce carefully holding her and trying to distract her. The same applied to having her ears swabbed and nails clipped, when safe in her father's arms, she was generally compliant.

"Should have bathed her right after we ate," Miss Selina had sighed as I followed her upstairs to the third floor, "Instead of playtime."

"I assure you, madam, it is no bother…"

She had glanced back at me, "You say that now. Wait until she has her big toe in your eye."

I had smirked at that, responding with, "Fear not, Ms. Selina, having spent many a year corralling Master Bruce into a bath, I feel I am well prepared to do the same to his daughter."

Given that every bedroom on the third floor had an attached bathroom, we had made a minor renovation to the one adjoining the nursery. As opposed to matching basin sinks, Master Bruce had installed a large Kohler sink that acted marvelously as a safe and efficient bath tub for his young child. As I went about filling it with warm water and retrieving supplies from the small closet, I had listened to Ms. Selina in the next room, cooing to her child softly.

Although I would never admit it aloud, having a child had brought about an unforeseen kindness in both mother and father. Both of their lives had been hewn and controlled by violence for so long, and yet in Miss Mattie's short life, they had rapidly involved into tender and caring souls. Truth be told, the gentleness had been there all along, only buried deep behind scars and fear and masks. I had seen glimpses from time to time, but the endless outpouring of it was something to behold.

"All right, Mattie, let's get all of this zoo off of you."

I had turned to see Ms. Selina entering the bathroom, her naked child in her arms. Out of habit, she had tested the water with her hand, smiling, "How do you get to be the perfect temperature every single time?"

"As I said, madam, many years ago… I had to corral Master Bruce into a bath."

She had gently set Mattie down into the water, making sure the child was sitting upright comfortably before hading over the child's beloved rubber duck. As Miss Mattie gripped it, she had instantly brought it to her mouth, biting down on its orange bill.

While wetting a wash cloth, Ms. Selina had admitted, "Bruce cheats, he uses a thermometer. He says he doesn't but I've caught trying to hide it in the drawer."

Watching on, I had remarked, "Master Bruce has always been very technical, very precise."

Occupied by her duck, Miss Mattie had remained practically motionless whilst her mother delicately washed her and rinsed her body, letting the young girl enjoy the warm water for as long as she desired. When her mother retrieved her and wrapped her in a light blue towel, I had proceeded to drain the sink and rinse it thoroughly with the hose extension.

"Well, hold or wash?" Ms. Selina had inquired.

"I shall hold, madam."

After taking the child into my arms, I had offer a momentary distraction with quiet duck sounds, making her eyes grow wide as they found my face. Wrapping the towel around her, I had then gently set her down on the counter, positioning her on her back with her head barely over the sink. She had grown a bit anxious, knowing what was heading her way, but the odd quacks and clucks kept her mind off of it, as did the duck bill still firmly held in her mouth.

As quickly as possible, Ms. Selina wet, washed, massaged and rinsed her child's hair, using the hose extension and plugging the girl's tiny ears as needed. Just as Miss Mattie realized what had been happening, it had passed. I had moved her to sit upright, supporting her back as her mother gently dried her hair with a smaller towel.

"There, kiddo, see? It wasn't so bad," Ms. Selina had grinned at her daughter before picking her up. Looking to me, she had added, "Thank you, Alfred, so much."

"My pleasure. Is there anything else?"

She had sighed before replying, "No… hopefully she'll sleep good tonight. Her tooth didn't seem to bother her as much today."

"We can only hope."

I had left mother and daughter in order to return to the ground floor, performing a final inspection of the kitchen and dining room. Since Miss Mattie was working her way from relying on formula and pureed food to small pieces of solid food, cleanup took a bit longer. Master Dick had once pointed out that we needed a dog to help clean up the scraps Miss Mattie dropped from her high chair.

The harsh look that had crossed my face had been matched by the one that took over Master Bruce's.

With everything in order, I had then trekked to the study, giving myself a moment to look over the massive oil paining above the mantle before moving to the grandfather clock. Although I had gone to the Cave nearly every night during Master Bruce's recovery, it had felt different of late. After so long, it was Master Bruce behind the computer or toiling in the laboratory or testing physical limitations in the training bay.

It was Master Bruce wearing the cowl.

I had crossed the main floor, making note that I had yet to restock the medical area from the previous night and that I finally had the training bay available for a good cleaning. Master Bruce had already donned his evening wear, cowl firmly in place along with the seemingly necessary scowl. As I had approached, I heard Ms. Barbara over the speakers telling her former mentor, "Be careful."

Unnecessary, I had announced myself with, "Wise words, sir, perhaps wise enough to adhere to."

He had looked me over, seemingly uncertain as to what to say. Finally, he had settled with, "How are they?"

"Miss Mattie has been bathed and is being put to bed as we speak."

Again, he hesitated, "Good… Tell her… I'll call later."

I had nodded, "Very good, sir."

Without another word, he had walked by me, leaping down the short steps leading to the garage floor. I had watched on as he unlocked the vehicle out in the open, jumping in and taking off in a matter of seconds. Alone at last, I had tended to the necessary tasks in the Cave, making sure the medical bay was amply equipped for another night of injuries. From there, I had mopped and disinfected the training bay mats and weight equipment, leaving it ready for the another day of torture.

Leaving the auxiliary lights on, I had climbed back upstairs, promising myself to take the elevator when I finally retired for the evening. Closing the entrance, the clock had righted itself to the actual time, putting it at twenty past eleven.

"Oh dear," I had uttered softly.

Making a final tour of the house had yielded that I was not the only soul awake. Ms, Selina, baby monitor in hand, sat in the informal den, the television glowing quietly. Without looking, she had explained, "It's all over the news, Alfred."

That it was.

"Following the violent events of last night, escaped inmate Harvey Dent is suspected of killing Gotham District Attorney Darrel Sturgis and his wife Charla in their Stockton home. In addition, an unidentified police officer has informed us that Dent has also kidnapped the Sturgis' two young children, Darnell and Mabey. And… this coming in, it is being reported now that Dent is also responsible for the kidnapping of a county judge. There is no word as to whether or not a ransom has been issued…"

"Those poor children," Ms. Selina hugged a small throw pillow close to her chest.

Before I could comment, the reporter gave the broadcast to a colleague on the scene, morbidly standing near the coroner's van, "Kristi Parker reporting her live at the home of District Attorney Darrel Sturgis. Speaking with witnesses here, we are to believe that there may be some vigilante efforts in this double homicide. An unnamed source here has reported that the entire house was cleared out for approximately six minutes, this included forensics, detectives and coroner."

It was then that Commissioner Gordon came into view, spotting the cameras in time to shake his head and mutter a curse under his breath. Ms. Parker promptly hurled a barrage of questions, of which he seemed to ignore. All he offered was, "We have our very best from the Special Crimes Unit and the police forensics working these cases."

"What about the kidnapping of the Sturgis children and Judge Harding."

He offered another vague answer, "I am not discussing these investigations with the press. If anyone has any viable information about these incidents or of the whereabouts of Harvey Dent, they are encouraged to contact Special Crimes on the hotline." Commissioner Gordon managed to evade them, ducking behind a large police officer before dashing to his car.

Ms. Selina and I remained quiet for the remainder of the news broadcast, both silently willing Master Bruce to find justice that night.

^V^


	7. Life Is Good: VII

Title: Life Is Good

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.

^V^

Harvey's first night of freedom had resulted in two hospital admittances.

The second night had started with two bodies going to the morgue, a violent upping of the ante, something I should have anticipated.

I had essentially ruined whatever efforts he had started the night before, thus leading to the escalation. He had never been one to be deterred by the interfering of either myself or law enforcers. If anything, it was more likely to urge him onward at a faster pace. As long as he had his funding, assistants and goals in place, he was apt to fast forward through his original plan. Making matters worse, he truly had an understanding of how his opponents thought, how they operated and most importantly, how to unnerve them.

Once upon a time, he hadn't been ruled by his disassociated identity disorder, he hadn't been capable of pulling a trigger following a coin flip and he never would have taken a child hostage, let alone nearly beat one to death as he had Dick. Where the rest of the city seemed to only think about his life as Two-Face, I was unable to forget the man that was on the right, the man that had once stood for justice and the innocent.

In my encounters with him after that horrid day in the courtroom, I had always resorted to reasoning with my former ally rather than start with sheer force. Before his transformation, he and I had worked side by side with Jim Gordon, bringing down the worst of Gotham by bending the law while our opponents broke it.

We had been Gotham's protectors, its last stand against the corruption that was eroding it from the inside out. At the beginning of my career, I had initially never expected to need anyone's help, of which had been a result of my own arrogance. I had relied only on Jim at first, but he had still been investigating my true identity and at any time he could have arrested me. Broadening my small network to include Harvey had been too easy, his charismatic ways only outdone by his thirst for justice.

It had been before Dick had come into my life, before Barbara had donned her own guise, before I had revealed myself to Selina.

Save for Alfred, essentially there had only been Harvey.

Even after suffering my own tragic injury, I was still able to recall each and every one of those chilly eves in his darkened office, Harvey's suit wrinkled and tie loosened, his coffee cup containing a swallow of scotch instead of caffeine.

How he always called me Bats.

Exactly ten minutes after studying the corpses of the DA and his wife, I was back on the main drag of Evanstown with my pulse racing but my mind unnaturally clear. Unlike the previous night, there were no subconscious doubts in my return, no lurking concerns about Selina and Mattie. There was nothing but the dead, cold faces of the DA and his wife along with the probability of finding their children and the county judge alive.

With two sets of hostages at two distant locations, it naturally posed a dilemma for everyone involved. Given his deep-seated, psychological hatred for me, he had wanted me to determine what location he would be at in order to confront me. The innocent children, whose ages divided to equal two, were a worthy distraction. He could have easily held each at gun point with his matching pair of .22 Glocks, asking me to risk their lives with every step I took. If he had learned anything from me over the years, seeing children in peril while I stood by helpless was a formidable way to catch me off guard.

Even thinking about innocent young faces, I found myself speeding towards Manchester after telling Oracle to direct the others to Irving Grove.

She hadn't seemed surprised to hear of the task at hand, nor had she asked how I had determined that Judge Harding was the target meant for me. Even if she had, I doubted that I would have wasted the time to explain it, even as the thoughts fluttered in my brain. Memories of Harding and Dent smiling while walking down the courthouse steps, running into their legalese conversations at luncheons, banquets and social events and even hearing that Harvey had been Ray's best man at the county judge's second wedding…

Combined with the fact that the address for Judge Harding was a former Maroni operation, there was no second guessing where Harvey wanted me to go.

With Batgirl having nothing to show for her efforts observing the house on Alula Street, Oracle first remark when she came over the comm. link was that she join me seeing how Nightwing and Robin were headed into Irving Grove. Just as I entered the borough of Manchester, I barked, "No, have her remain within eyesight of the stakeout point. If it goes bad, Harvey is smart enough not to go back there, but the others they are likely to retreat to an alternate base."

As I turned right sharply, cutting off traffic already moving north on Hollinger Drive, I heard Barbara respond, "I'll tell her… Looks like available units will converge on the address in the Grove in about six minutes, Robin and Nightwing should be arriving at their mark in seven."

Glancing at the dashboard console, I grimaced to see it was ten of twelve, silently cursing Harvey for not making the deadline at two. I heard myself growling, "How close are Gordon's men to the warehouse?"

"At the rate you're going, you'll beat them by three minutes."

I made the final turn, the street barren and sparsely lit with neglected street lamps. Slicing through the quiet, the 'Mobile's engine was angry as the odometer and tachometer gauges jumped. Dark, grimy buildings passed by in a blur as I added one final thought to her, "Keep tabs on them… If I'm wrong… this will all go to Hell."

Before signing off, she replied, "Good thing you're never wrong."

Once the 'Mobile was secured, I made my way in quickly on foot, still managing to keep the sound of my boot soles on the concrete to a minimum. Using the lenses of the cowl, I scanned the building with basic, infrared and magnified views. Dim lighting showed through most of the windows and the thermal imaging revealed six figures, three of which were in the same second floor room.

Whatever thugs Harvey had with him could easily have been armed with more of the previous night's weaponry, but I knew Harvey would only carry two things.

A black finished Glock 22 and a double-headed silver dollar.

Closing in on the east side of the building, I sprinted across the bare street. Reaching the exterior, I pressed my form tightly against the wall, sliding quickly and quietly down towards a nearest entrance. I touched the doorknob gently and found it to be unlocked, an obvious trap or blatant disregard. A quick scan showed the inside corridor to be vacant and I decided to take the welcome opening while I had it.

Silently closing the double steel and glass doors behind me, I then retrieved a three-foot piece of near invisible trip wire from my belt. Still keeping an attentive eye and ear out for any unwanted parties, I pasted it to the walls on both sides of the door, attaching a small explosive. In the event that the wire was tripped, it would provide more of a stun factor than a damaging one.

Enough to send a runaway thug to the pavement for a few minutes.

Checking the scanners, I listened the hall once more before moving towards the rear stairwell, approximately twenty feet from the door. As I took my seventh step up, I heard it. A soft male voice humming and pair of footsteps echoing in the hall. I quickly returned to the ground floor and hid myself behind the stairwell's one wall. With the seconds ticking away towards the deadline, I waited.

He was big, more weight lifter than henchman. Armed with a walkie-talkie, two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and a sub-machine gun, he passed by me as if I truly had been a part of the shadows. Once he was parallel to me, I reached out with a quick jab to the side of his neck. Just as he reacted to the blow, I ensnared his throat with my left arm, cutting of his oxygen supply.

Gasping for breath, his meaty arms dropped the gun and struggled with the air, reaching out for some form of invisible help. Voiceless, his cries were hoarse and were no louder than static on his walkie-talkie. Putting my lips to his ear, I whispered lowly, "Where is Dent?"

I reduced the pressure just enough for him to release a rasp, "Upstairs. I- I don't wanna die-."

I increased the pressure as I replied, ""You won't. But if you lied to me..." As I felt him grow limp in my hold, I checked his pulse before throwing his dead weight over my shoulder. I didn't have the time to take him outside of the building but I had no choice. If Harvey had any tricks up his sleeves and things went bad, he needn't be a casualty.

When I returned, I met another goon on the ground floor, walking around as if he were window-shopping as opposed to keeping watch. As I subdued him with little effort, I mused that Harvey sure had a rough looking crew, not nearly as talented as those in former years. The last thug I encountered as I ascended the stairs to the second floor had a fraction of a second to aim his weapon at me before a tranquilizer tainted batarangs hit him in just beneath the collar bone. He barely had a chance to put a finger on the trigger before he collapsed face first and tumbled down the stairs.

After I dumped him with his fellow unconscious allies, I flew up the stairs, taking three at a time. Not wasting any more time, I proceeded towards the end of the north corridor, towards the room that I had spotted the three figures in. Whether all three were still alive…

With a deep breath, I touched the doorknob and prepared to crack it open. For a flash of a moment, the strategies the Batman lived by were overrun by the memories of Harvey once more.

Before I could even make peace with myself, a sound toned from within.

The soft chirping of a cell phone.

Expect the unexpected.

^V^

We looked at our watch to see it was 11:58. A growl escaped us as we resumed pacing the room. How could we have been expected to wait for him any longer?

He should have been there by now…

Maybe he was, we thought suddenly.

Maybe he was just outside waiting to charge in and save the day like he always had. And the police were outside; guns aimed at us and handcuffs ready to take us away, to take us back to Arkham.

Where you can get help, Harvey whispered.

Two-Face ignored him and continued to pace.

Some rent-a-thug stood by the window, looking out for ay sign of him. Some of our best had been taken into custody the night before, knocked out cold by kids in masks. A few of the luckier ones had tried to make a run for it, ended up in intensive care after dancing with the Bat. This one was a lucky loser, fate smiling on him long enough to have be late to the warehouse rendezvous. A lucky loser with a good left hook.

So much had gone wrong so quickly… but we still had our hopes up.

After all, it had cost us far too much to escape to let it go to waste. Financially, it had set us back nearly six figures in getting certain associates of mine hired for service work at Arkham, paying for leases under the table on a few buildings throughout the city and of course outfitting our new assistants with appropriate weaponry and vehicles. Ideally, it would have been a worthy investment with a quick return, following a pair of armored truck heists that were scheduled for later in the week.

But he had to stick his pointy ears in the middle of it…

No, right at the beginning of it.

We would always be able to get more money, more thugs, more guns.

We could make new plans, even escape from Arkham again if necessary.

We still had to make our efforts worthwhile, though…

Kidnapping the judge and the DA's kiddies was supposed to have been later in the week. Fast forwarding through the plan and losing men we had already paid for a week's worth of work had put us in a foul mood. We weren't being hasty, we were being rational. He had started, we were going to finish it.

It was during our moment of thought that the phone rang from our left hand pocket.

On the second ring, we answered, "What?"

"Hey, boss. It's Marty, we have a bit of a problem, I think."

Marty, our resident geek and look out for both of the locations. He was in some old delivery van, watching his surveillance footage on tiny screens, listening to the police scanner, trying to make order of the chaos. His nasal voice irritated us already and we had only known him for two days.

"What do you mean a problem?" we asked, our voices giving way to a growl. We stepped over to the outside wall of the room, hoping for better reception on the damned phone.

"Cops are all over the place here. They found the kids and-."

We growled at him, "Cops! What do you mean cops?"

His breathing quickened, "GCPD, SWAT team… And the Bat's brats too…"

So he was on the prowl tonight. If he sent the kids to save the kiddies, than that meant he _was _on his way for us.

Without another word, we hung up and pocketed the phone while he had asked nervously what he should do. Glancing up, we smirked at the blindfolded judge that had been bound for hours to a wooden chair. The fear-tainted sweat was pungent in the small room, but it was barely detectable over our underling's awful cologne.

"What is it, boss?" he inquired, his hands resting on the butts of the semi-automatic handguns at his hips. He had dressed and armed himself for war, black attire under bullet proof armor. We didn't have the heart to tell him that the vest was useless, the Bat didn't use a gun.

He didn't need to.

"No one," we growled in response. Withdrawing our own Glock from its holster, we added, "Unmask Harding, he'll want to take this into evidence."

"Evidence?"

We glared at him and he quickly decided to do as asked, without further question,

Harding jerked when the thug ripped the blindfold off of him, his eyes darted around the room before locking on me. It was a look of half-fear and half-shock on his wrinkled face, but somehow his voice was steady, "Harvey, what the hell are you doing."

After pausing to stand in front of him, we tapped the tip of our Glock on his nose, "Do we have to hold you in contempt, Ray?"

"Harvey... Please…" he began to plead, bushy gray eyebrows rising with worry.

Walking towards the only door in narrow room, we called back, "Don't worry, your counsel should be arriving any second now…"

Ripping back the steel door, we aimed the Glock out into the dim corridor, ready to pull the trigger at the first sign of glowing white eyes.

Nothing.

"We know you're out there Bats! If you don't want to come out, we'll make you!" Leaving the door wide open, we returned to Harding and pressed the Glock flush to his left temple. In a half-smile and half-sneer, we announced out loud, "Ten."

Harding struggled against the ropes pinning him to the chair. When the thug moved to approach, we nodded for him to go towards the window. With him in position to nobly defend us, we continued, our eyes locked on the door "Eight." Pausing two seconds, we then growled, "Six."

Harding's body stopped fighting as it gave way to trembling, his eyes also finding the empty doorway, waiting for his savior.

He was always one for a dramatic entrance, saving the day, but not before the last second.

But with the last second fast approaching…

"Four."

Not such much as a shadow moving in the hallway…

"Two," we sneered, putting more pressure on the trigger.

"This ends now, Harvey," his voice cut through the tense air like a double-edged knife.

We had known him for more than a decade. Once upon a time he had been our ally, our friend. But where he had been able to save so many faceless innocents, he had failed us when we had needed him most. True allies, true friends… they weren't supposed to let you down.

The sight of our Glock was aimed between his two white, deceitful eyes.

"Very good of you to join us," we growled back, "Give him a proper welcome."

We hadn't even finished uttering the words before the thug took action, driving heavy jabs and crosses at the Bat. He blocked nearly all of them, and those that landed were absorbed, the energy being returned to sender tenfold. It took mere seconds for the Bat to trade defense for offense, knocking the thug to the floor effortlessly.

As our fallen comrade crashed heavily into the wall and then the floor, we shook our head while subconsciously tapping the gun's mouth against the judge's shoulder.

He slowly stood upright, regaining his composure. That had always been his trick, acting like he was the Devil himself, always retaining his precious dignity. He would never admit that he was just like us and all the others. A monster, inside and out.

"And then there were three," we smirked before pressing the gun to Harding's temple.

His eyes never left our face as he countered, "You can change that, Harvey. Let him go."

"We can change that, all right. Let him go straight to Hell."

He stepped forwards, pausing when I pressed metal into flesh hard enough to make the judge moan. We felt his gaze intensify as he replied, "You could do that. Or you could let him go free."

We pondered briefly, "Seems we've been here before, Bats. Except there's not kid here to meddle with things…" Gun still in place, we prepared the Coin for a flip, "Heads, the judge walks. Tails… court is adjourned for good."

He nodded, "Fair enough."

In most of our confrontations, he would do anything to barter with us, to somehow twist the odds in his favor. Most often, when our eyes were on the Coin as it spun in the air, he would tackle me. The Glock and the judge were in far too close of proximity for him to rely on that as means of diffusing the situation. Perhaps he had something else up his gauntlets…

"Nothing is fair, Bats," our eyes narrowed at his unnatural calmness, "Nothing."

"The coin is fair, Harvey. You've been telling me that for years. Live or die, right or wrong, guilty or innocent."

"He's not innocent," we snapped, "And neither are you!"

"It's not up for you to decide, Harvey," he dared another step closer, "Flip it."

We swung the gun at him, roaring out, "Don't tell us what to do!"

"Flip it," he commanded, taking another step but still not making an attempt to disarm us.

Don't do it, Harvey whispered, You know him, he doesn't want to hurt you.

Two-Face growled, You know him all right. Like to know him with his brains all over the wall.

He was right, we had to do it. Heads, we let him walk, tails we blew his pointy ears off.

We flipped the coin, holding our breath while we looked down at our palm.

Two-Face grinned, Life is good.

^V^

Having just arrived on location in Irving Grove, I had to park my cycle a block away. Although there weren't any police or SWAT on scene at the time, they're sirens were already wailing in the distance.

With Batgirl and Robin getting a jump o the patrols that had been neglected that evening, I had decided that my efforts were better spent saving Bruce from his ally turned nemesis. Speeding the fifteen minutes from Manchester, I had kept the comm. Link open in hopes to hear from my mentor. Regrettably, all I had been met with were useless updates from both Oracle and the police radio communications. Having left the secondary site with two bawling but otherwise healthy kids in the safety of police officers, I had my doubts that it was going to go as smoothly at the primary location.

Bruce and Harvey and a hostage… a combination that always left a coppery taste in my mouth.

Racing on foot towards the darkened warehouse, my first inclination that things may have already been taken care off were a pile of unconscious and bound henchmen ten yards from the side door.

Looking up at the only visibly lit window, I spoke over the comm. link, "Batman, I'm on site. Do you read me?"

Nothing.

Before I could take another step closer, three things happened.

A dozen black and whites, unmarked cars and SWAT vans screeched to a halt behind me. The second, my lens display showed the time to be exactly midnight. Lastly, a hand gun sounded off from above, roughly originating from the window I had been staring at.

Although I heard shouts from behind me to put down any weapons I had and to put my hands on my head, I ignored them. Instead, I called out over the link again, "Batman, do you read me?"

Gordon's voice echoed in my ears, barking orders for his men to stand down and for me to turn around. I instinctively jumped towards the door, ready to pummel Dent unrecognizable as old memories began to surface from a fifteen months earlier.

With every footfall, a new thought surfaced. He had only been training for three months, he had only been back a few nights, he wasn't ready for Dent. He wasn't ready for anything. I pushed him too fast, not taking the time to test him thoroughly. A year away, most of it spent recovering mentally just as much as he had physically… he had taken seven years to reach perfection and I had tried to cram into ninety days…

Barely missing the trip wire, I raced inside, silently begging for forgiveness.

Not knowing the layout, I blindly raced upstairs in the dark, hoping to find an already subdued Harvey Dent with a tired, yet bullet-free Judge Harding being untied by an equally bullet-free Batman. As Robin, it was a common sight for me, save for my first dealing with Two-Face.

Where I had been tricked into the beating of a lifetime, Bruce had been nearly strangled by a hangman's noose and the judge had sank to the bottom of the Gotham River.

Not again, please…

As I reached the steel stairwell, I heard footsteps in the deafening silence. Instinctively, I prepared myself for the worst. More thugs or even Harvey himself. What I hadn't been prepared for was to see Batman appear at the top step, with an unconscious Harvey Dent over his left shoulder, along with Judge Harding tentatively walking beside him.

Batman stared at me briefly before descending the stairs, asking me, "How were the children?"

Dumbfounded, I stared at him in silence. He was alive and well and had accomplished his adjective. As he paused to stand before me, I finally managed, "Fine. They took them to Mercy for observation."

He nodded curtly and then added, "I'll meet you out back," and then strode away, Harding still at his heels.

I watched him for a moment before shaking my head, wondering why I had ever doubted him to begin with. Making my way to the rear of the building, I contacted both Robin and Batgirl to tell them all was well on our end. It wasn't until I passed through a rusty steel exit that I opened a line directly to Oracle, "O?"

"Police reports are saying Two-Face is in custody," she greeted.

"That he is."

"And that Judge Harding is relatively unharmed."

"I didn't see a scratch on him… at least not on the outside," I replied as I prepared a d-cel line. Once I had fired and anchored the grapple, I shook my head, "Want to hear something crazy?"

"Always."

I waited to continue until after I had ascended to the rooftop of an adjacent five story housing building. No doubt the units within were the size of sardine cans and went for a monthly four digit fee. Looking down at the flashing glow of red and blue lights on the other side of the warehouse, I said, "He was fine. Waltzed right out with the hostage in tow and Harvey over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes."

"And why is that crazy?" she asked, the clatter of keys in the background.

Sighing, I admitted, "That's not what's crazy. What's crazy is that I walked in thinking he was down… that… something bad had happened. I never even thought that he could have walked out on his own."

She hesitated before responding, "That is crazy."

"I would have never doubted him before Pasqualle, not even for a second."

Barbara sighed herself, "That's the thing about, Bruce. Everyone expects the worst… and he refuses to live based on someone else's expectations."

A soft footfall sounded from behind, intentionally loud enough for me to hear. "Gotta go, Babs."

"Give him a pat on the back for me."

Closing the connection, I turned to face Batman, my smirk quickly fading into a look of concern. He had been carrying Harvey on left shoulder, distracting me from looking at his right one. With the flashing lights below being joined by flood lights, it wasn't difficult to see the slick wetness dripping down his arm.

"What happened?" I nodded to his arm while approaching.

"Flesh wound."

The night before had been a flesh wound. From the amount of blood that was already pooling at his feet, it was anything but. Not wanting to be the one to call him out on his own diagnosis, I continued, "He fired the shot, then."

"He was going to shoot Harding or me. I preferred it was me," he explained while looking down at the chaos below. "The children are safe, Harding is safe… and Harvey is heading back to Arkham where he will be safe. I'll take a few more stitches for all of that."

The look in his eyes, even behind the cowl, suggested that he had never uttered truer words. Perhaps save for the oath he had taken as an eight year-old orphan.

"Selina's going to be pissed," I chided.

He showed no sign of noticing the intended humor as his reply was monotonous, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"In that case, you can crash on the couch at the Clocktower. You know, after you stop bleeding."

Again, his gaze was distant, his mind far away. I would have blamed it on the shock from blood loss but I knew better. He had the same look on his face any other time he had to bring his former ally to justice. It was one I had seen him wear after both successes and failures, most often when he thought no one was looking. It was one of self-doubt blended with wonderment of the what-if's sprinkled with a dash of regret.

Having not believed in Bruce's abilities, I decided it was only appropriate to wear the same look on my face.

^V^

Despite the fact that Mattie hadn't made a peep since I had changed her a littler after ten, I was awoken twice in the middle of the night. First, with a phone call at midnight and second just after four in the morning by a pre-dawn visitor.

Barbara had called just after midnight, mere minutes after I had finally given up on staying up and waiting for word on the hostage situation. My reasoning had been that Bruce and his masked pupils would be able to save the day as they had the previous night relatively unharmed. At any rate, Bruce would come home exhausted, mentally and physically, and someone needed to rest up so they could be with Mattie bright and early in the morning.

With Isis purring beside me and my back to the seemingly slow moving bedside clock, I had been quick to jump up the second the phone rang. Grabbing the receiver, I had answered with a rushed, "Yes?"

"Hey, it's-," Barbara had started to greet me.

"What is it?" I had asked, cutting her off. Seconds earlier I had convinced myself that everything was going to be fine but suddenly my gut had been filled with cold dread.

She had sighed before replying, "Relax, Cat-lady, he's fine. Everyone's fine… the judge, the kids… the big kids."

I had let air that had been trapped in my lungs out in a quiet rush. Heart still fluttering, I had responded, "Of course they are…"

Barbara went on to rehash the events in as few details as possible, emphasizing how smoothly everything had gone despite how last minute the night's events had been. When I had asked if she could patch me on a line to Bruce, she had hesitated, then answered. "He's still pretty busy… he was just at GCPD to speak with my father and his tracer says he's en route to Arkham to check in on Harvey."

Reaching over to stroke the purring black figure beside me, I had said, "Of course."

A silent moment had fallen between us before she had closed with, "Get some sleep. He'll be home soon."

When Bruce had first started going into the city with Dick, Barbara had once again become my late night correspondent and form of entertainment. Before the shooting last May, I had often checked in with her to get a head start on hunting down my favorite vigilante. He had always been surprised when I had been able to locate him so effortlessly, not once inquiring as to if I had taken up an accomplice. We had a rocky start while she had still worn her mask, but it was far more enjoyable to have her as a friend rather than a foe.

Not four hours later, the bedroom door opened and closed almost silently. The footsteps that followed were unusually slow, which raised a flag in my half-asleep mind. Either Bruce was rag tired or he had inflicted more damage upon himself. Knowing him, my slumbering brain concluded, it was both.

Just as I was about to force myself to become fully awake, the steps faded and the door opened and closed again. I thought I had called out to him but realized that I was still laying limply in bed. Finally sitting up, I let my eyes adjust while scanning the expanse of the bedroom. Bruce was gone but the faint aroma of betadine had remained behind.

I rose, pushing of the blankets languidly and neglected my robe and the lights, stepping right out of the room and into the hall. Even in the dim corridor, I knew where he had disappeared to. Walking up to the next door on the right, I paused at Mattie's nursery to see the door slightly ajar. I heard his soft baritone whispering to her before actually seeing him in the room. Although the words were undecipherable, I could recognize the affection in his voice.

Clad in his housecoat, Bruce stood beside her crib, his arms resting on the side of it. His words were still too quiet to understand, but they made me smile nonetheless. After a moment, he reached down and adjusted the foot of her pajama with the same care he would have used diffusing a bomb. Bruce then leaned over and kissed her softly, "Good night, kitten."

Sated that she was comfortable, Bruce turned and faced me, offering a nod while forcing himself to walk as normally as possible. As he reached the door, I backed away and let him pass through, following him stride for stride back to the bedroom. He didn't say a word until we were entering the room, "Had to change the batteries on the monitor."

"Ah," I took a seat on the bed after turning the night stand lamp on, hesitating before adjusting the covers back over me.

He very well could have been telling the truth, but it was more likely that he just wanted to look at Mattie's face after a long night. Bruce proceeded to the bathroom, barely increasing the volume of his voice despite the distance he had put between us, "And tomorrow I want to put that other night light in, the one that looks like the fish are swimming in the aquarium… it'll be getting darker sooner at night, I want her to start relying on that light instead of the one next to the changing table."

"Mm-hmm." Another plausible excuse, one better explained that he wanted to focus on keeping the boogey man at bay in his daughter's room as opposed to what he had faced hours earlier.

Bruce stepped out of the bathroom, clad in a pair of boxer briefs and an array of bandages. The bruises from the night before had just started to mottle, yielding a spectrum of colors ranging from dark ash to a velvety purple. The minor scrapes and cuts were left bare to air out but as I looked more closely, the fresh gauze only covered the original flesh wound as well as a new one just below the collar bone.

"Honey, you really do need to start playing with other children," I chided as he approached the bed.

He only offered a soft grunt as he sat on his side, facing away from me. Lowering his head slightly, Bruce said, "I'll get up with her in the morning… so you can sleep in."

"I'm pretty sure I should be telling you that."

After a brief pause, he turned and carefully reclined beside me, tentatively pulling the covers up to his navel. Once he appeared to be as comfortable as he was going to be, I situated myself on my side so that I faced him, resting my chin on his unscathed left shoulder.

I kissed his cheek, "Sleep, I'll take kitten duty."

When he didn't reply for two minutes, I moved back to study his face. As dark as it was in the room, I just made out reflections on his eyes as he stared straight up at the ceiling. Just as I was about to ask what had happened, he said, "He's still alive."

"Of course, you saved Harding…"

Bruce shook his head, then carefully turned to lay facing me, "Not Harding… Harvey."

"Well… you saved him, too."

Bruce sighed, his warm breath caressing my cheek, "I never save him, Selina. I always let him down. I stop him and I send him back to the asylum… and the he escapes and I do the same thing all over again. That's not saving him."

I pressed my hand to his chest, unable to form a verbal response.

For once, Bruce was the one with something to say, "Tonight, Harvey saved me."

"I don't understand…"

"When I got there, Harvey was ready to take Harding out… But I convinced him to flip the coin for me instead. He did and the bad side came up… Two-Face aimed right at my head but then twisted his wrist and shot my shoulder. He wanted to kill me so badly, but Harvey wouldn't let him."

Bruce continued before I could pry, "There was this look in his good eye. Like he was apologizing. But the bad half- It kept sneering at me as if it was the greatest moment of his life. Two-Face was holding the gun, but Harvey wouldn't let him pull the trigger."

After another quiet moment, I kissed him softly, "Then you owe him one, Bruce."

He nodded, then remarked, "I went to see him... Once he had been processed and put back in maximum security. He said that it was about time that I came back to see him… told me it was my move, that he had been waiting for over a year."

Their seemingly never-ending chess game. I hadn't even thought once about it during Bruce's recovery. Each night, he had checked in at Arkham to make sure the worst of the worst were in their rightful cells. The only inmate he ever interacted with was Harvey, voicing his move to the confined man who then carried it out on a paper board with rubber pieces. While Bruce had been without his memories, Harvey had been diligently waiting for his old friend to play his move…

"And?" I asked.

"Rook to 2B… stale mate."

A few seconds later, I felt his arms move and tighten around me, his lips kissing my brow line. Before I could speak, he voiced his thoughts unprovoked once more, "It seems that my enemies have become rather friendly towards me of late."

I laughed into his neck, "Some more than others."

He withdrew his lips and faced me, "Oh?"

Nodding, I then kissed him, nibbling at his lips. After pulling away, I reminded him, "After all, I don't think it would be quite as amusing to have Harvey calling you a pin-headed ape, now would it?"

^V^


	8. Life Is Good: VIII

Title: Life Is Good: VIII

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's note: This chapter has been modified from its original form.

^V^

Quiet at long last, I mused.

The manor had been unreasonably peaceful of late, the calm of autumn seeping into the household without contest. Wit h their vigilante efforts in low demand, Master Timothy had returned to school full-time at Brentwood, Master Dick had reverted to his responsibilities in Bludhaven and Miss Cassandra frequented the manor, predominantly remaining in the city with Ms. Barbara. That was as long as they weren't called upon by Master Bruce to help in his quest or by Ms. Selina to sit for Miss Mattie.

Leaving myself to watch over his young family.

The twenty-fifth of November, I had risen in the morning thirty minutes early in order to prepare for Thanksgiving dinner. The days prior had been spent tidying the house, polishing silverware and purchasing the necessities for the feast. Given how the Family had spent so much time apart of late, I intended to make their day together as enjoyable as possible. The day of, I had only to take on the culinary endeavors knowing that the great house was spotless.

After treating myself to a cup of tea and eggy-in-a-basket in the breakfast nook, I traveled back upstairs and to the third floor. Given that my oldest charge had returned from patrols not two hours before I had risen for the day, I had decided it was wisest to let him and his bride-to-be to sleep in as late as possible. I opened the nursery door with all intent to change and feed Miss Mattie, taking her on as a sous chef in her rolling walker.

At the very least, she could taste test for me.

The child was already awake, despite the hour, and was quietly mumbling to herself as she shook her stuffed giraffe. When I turned the overhead light on, she looked to me and grinned, cooing in delight.

"Good morning, Miss Mattie."

After changing her into a fresh diaper and dressing her in a comfortable pair of leggings, white socks and a long sleeved shirt the color of pumpkin pie, I hefted the growing toddler into my arms and headed back to the stairs. She giggled quietly before grabbing two tiny handfuls of my sweater and resting her head on my shoulder.

Having already brought her walker from the den, I set her in it gently before pouring a small amount of Cheerios onto the small tray. As she went to work on feeding the tiny bits to herself, I went about preparing her a proper meal for my youngest charge. Given the occasion, I opted to mix up batter for pumpkin pancakes, taking my original scratch recipe and adding just a bit of pureed pumpkin and nutmeg. Only making two tiny pancakes for her, I left the majority of the batter in the bowl until it was time to make breakfast for her parents.

And any other unexpected morning guests.

Ms. Barbara intended on making the trip up to the manor earlier in the day as to help in any fashion she could. I had assured her for the better part of the week that all was in order but she was far from convinced. Given their hectic schedules, I doubted that Master Dick or Tim would make an appearance before noon, but in the chance they arrived for a brunch, I intended to be prepared.

By the time I had diced her pancakes, served vanilla yogurt and prepared small bits of pear, Miss Mattie had eaten every last Cheerios saved for the ones that had fallen from her grasp and landed on the floor. Lifting her from the walker, I carried her, the plate and her Toffler juice box to the breakfast nook. Setting her meal down first, I then went about setting her up in the high chair, quickly giving her the small pieces of food that she would be able to feed herself. Surely one day she would be able to navigate yogurt from a bowl and to her mouth with a utensil, but in the meantime, I would oversee the process.

As I watched the child eat her breakfast, I mentally prepared the remainder of the day. The greatest hurdle would be to prepare the brined turkey that had been soaking over night in nearly two gallons of water, tainted with maple syrup, brown sugar and coarse salt. As a result, the meat that resulted from its accumulated three hours in the oven would still yield moist, tender meat.

The plentiful sides were fairly easy to prepare, simply requiring chopping, peeling, boiling, stirring, baking and plating. Twice baked potatoes, spinach and brie topped artichoke hearts, cranberry relish , candied sweet potatoes, pecan and sausage stuffing as well as the various hors d'oeuvres and desserts… It would be a task to accomplish everything before dinner at three that afternoon, but it certainly was within my abilities.

Just as the automatic coffee maker began emitting the aroma of fresh percolation, Miss Mattie was nearly through eating her yogurt. Given that the entirety of the day would offer her numerous chances to feast, I opted not to force her to finish her breakfast. She was rarely a fussy eater but when she decided to stop eating, it took a certain level of determination to convince her otherwise. The task was often assigned to her father.

Child fed, she was put back in her walker, dutifully trying to follow me around the kitchen as I collected vegetables, utensils, spices and mixing bowls. She craned her tiny head as she tried to watch my efforts at the island counter deftly dicing foodstuffs and setting them in their appropriate groups. The first order of business was to make the appetizers but at the very least, I would be able to prepare all of the ingredients needed for the day ahead of time.

After washing my hands, I found the kitchen clock reading just after eight in the morning. Potatoes peeled, dough rising, bread crumbs soaking in herbs, I had a significant head start on the day. Regrettably, my sous chef had grown tired of playing spectator and desired another brand of entertainment. After a short ride in the elevator, I stepped off onto the third floor corridor of the east wing, toddler in tow.

Not five minutes later, I helped her knock on her parents' bedroom door, smirking as she cooed, "Llloooo?"

Stepping into the master bedroom, Miss Mattie accompanied me to the windows to pull back the curtains, revealing a blistery November morn. Approaching the still figures in the bed, I greeted warmly, "Good morning, sir. Madam."

Ms. Kyle was the first to show signs of life, sitting up in bed slowly while keeping a firm hold on the blankets, "It's freezing."

Master Bruce rolled away from her in the bed, pulling the bedspread with him, "… letting the cold air in…"

I smiled briefly, "The forecast reported a high of thirty-eight degrees."

"Unless it's warmer than seventy with sunshine, it's freezing," Miss Kyle rebutted as she slipped off of the bed ad rose to her feet, "But at least I have someone to keep me warm until then."

I had expected Master Bruce to make a comment but it appeared as if he had taken to hibernation, head buried beneath the blankets. Taking the child from me, I watched on as Ms. Selina kissed both of her daughter's cheeks, hugging her tightly to her chest. "Look at you… all dressed up for today…"

"I presumed that this would do until dinner… I feared for her new dress, quite honestly."

Ms. Selina smiled at me and then looked to Miss Mattie, "Wise decision, Alfred… I can see you getting it dirtied up when your big brother gets here and starts chasing you around the den."

However eager Ms. Kyle was that morning, Master Bruce was the opposite. Despite the reasonably low level of criminal activity of late, he had still dedicated himself to lengthy patrols, bringing up home in the early morning hours as opposed to the late of night. Running on less than a handful of hours of sleep had been a away of life for years but life had changed for him. Rather than catch a quick nap returning home from work, he was with his daughter and fiancée. In place of sleeping in Sunday mornings, he was up early to change diapers and to prepare for outings.

Needless to say, his morning disposition had faltered in recent weeks.

Ms. Selina returned to sit beside her horizontal beau, "Where is your father, Mattie?"

The child giggled quietly as her mother set her down on the bed. She then crawled towards Master Bruce, standing on her hands and knees before reaching out for the blanket covering his form. After a few good yanks, she pulled the comforter away from him and then crawled on to his head. I stood by with a triumphant smile on my aged visage while Ms. Selina urged her child on.

Rather than leave the toddler in waiting, Master Bruce emerged with a smirk on his tired face, a smirk that grew when she declared, "Pee dee bah!"

His voice was a low rasp, "Peek a boo. I see you."

Miss Mattie leaned forward and rested her face on his chest, sighing softly when he wrapped an arm around her, "Dahie…"

Just seven weeks short of her first birthday and she was already daddy's little girl.

Leaving the family to ready themselves for the day, I returned to my post in the kitchen I order to give everything a once over with out the adorable distraction of Miss Mattie. Given the opportunity, I plated the dining room as quickly as possible, making sure that each anticipated guest was located properly amidst the place settings. When I entered the kitchen once more, I was surprised to see it was already occupied.

"Well, we all set for the invasion or what?" Ms. Selina smiled, holding her daughter in her slender arms.

"Quite so, madam. Master Dick and Master Timothy shall be filled to the brim before they can conquer this meal."

She smiled, "That's a scary thought… I know it's foolish to ask, but is there anything I can do, to help?"

Without hesitation, I replied, "Enjoy yourself, that is all I wish."

She smirked, kissed her daughter's brow, then thanked me.

^V^

With Mattie reasonably set for the morning, I entertained her while Selina showered and dressed. When Peek A Boo had grown boring, she settled in next to me as I read to her from the previous morning's newspaper. It wasn't long before that had also lost its entertainment value, evident when she reached out and ripped the society section's front page right down the middle.

"Good call," I remarked as she began shredding the rest of the paper.

With my daughter thoroughly enjoying the activity, it allowed me to rest my eyes for another fifteen minutes in somewhat peace. I had made it up from the Cave shortly before five, exhausted mentally and physically. Even still, I had climbed the stairs to the third floor, each step forward allowing me to push back the night's events. It hadn't been a particularly hectic night, just one that had left a sour taste in my mouth.

Ninety=eight percent of patrols had been standard, making the rounds, checking in on a few snitches and trekking to Arkham for a quick check-in on Harvey. With his escape coinciding with my return to the cowl, the nights that had followed his capture left me feeling unaccomplished. Useless, even. Dick often joked that disaster would strike again soon enough, giving me a challenge to tackle. In the mean time, it was drug dealers, illegal firearms smugglers and the regular lot of violent offenders.

The two percent of patrols that had not been standard had been gruesome.

Armed robbery turned aggravated assault turned homicide.

Four victims including the suspect.

One witness, age eleven. Overhearing the police officers first responding to the scene, the girl's name was Aliza and that she wouldn't stop crying. Perfectly understandable given that she had just witnessed her father defend the family store with his life.

Crawling into bed beside Selina, I had pretended that I was able to leave the crime scene walkthrough behind in order to get at least a few hours of sleep. Regrettably, my mind decided that it was still on duty, playing out the countless ways the event could have played out. Each scenario ended with four dead bodies and one orphan girl sitting with Child Protective Services in the back of a patrol car. I had finally managed to shut my brain off shortly before Alfred had walked in with Mattie…

By the time Selina emerged, dressed in fitted dark jeans and a caramel colored chiffon top, Mattie had most of the bedspread covered in scraps and bits of newspaper. She shook her head as she walked over, "Bruce, why didn't you stop her?"

Forcing myself to sit up, I fought back a yawn to reply, "It's fine, I read it yesterday."

"That, I could care less about… but this mess," she gestured to the countless bits of paper.

"I'll pick it up," I said as I started to collect the pieces. Mattie quickly tried to stop me, reaching out with a tiny hand to grab at the paper in my hand. When I raised it out of her reach, she called out in protest.

Selina picked Mattie up, leading to another soft wail, "Come on, kiddo, I'm sure there is at least one toy in the nursery that is as entertaining as confetti…"

Alone, I cleared off the bedspread, checked under the blankets for any stray bits and then threw everything away in the bathroom trash can, along with any hope to go back to bed. Thanksgiving dinner wasn't until late afternoon, but in the hours leading up to it, the Family would be arriving at various times and require entertaining. A year ago, I couldn't have been more excited to spend the holiday with everyone.

Staring at my tired face in the mirror, I wanted to do anything but.

After showering and shaving, I looked and felt slightly better. Dressing casually for the day in dark slacks, a white cotton tee shirt under a navy blue vee-neck sweater, I proceeded to jog down the stairs, rolling my sleeves up just as I reached the last step. As much as I wanted to head to the Cave to quickly check on coroner reports or forensic lists from the GCPD for the quadruple homicide, I turned left at the bottom of the great staircase.

Following not my instinct, but the sound of Mattie laughing.

She was in the breakfast nook, sitting on selina's lap while Isis incidentally tickled her legs with a twitching tail. I watched from the doorway as Mattie leaned forward and grabbed the cat's tail, pulling gently but still enough to convince the feline to trot away to safety.

"Mattie, that's not nice," Selina said while righting our child.

"She's lucky that Isis is… some cats scratch," I announced myself. When Selina looked up, I smirked, "You eat yet?"

She nodded, "Alfred fed Mattie earlier, then she ate again when I did… you want something?"

Taking the chair opposite of hers, I shook my head, "I'm sure I'll get my fill later." When Mattie reached out towards me, I set my left arm on the table, letting her grasp my thumb. It was then that I realized that a good portion of the glossy oak table was covered in magazines.

Bridal magazines.

"Sorry, I was just perusing," Selina offered.

"Peruse away," I smirked again.

After a moment of contemplation, Selina smiled as well, quickly followed by her bare toes reaching over to rest on my loafer clad feet. When they traced the edge of my pants leg, I decided I was forgiven for my lapse in parental supervision earlier that morning. It wasn't that she had been upset, more or less, but frustrated. I went to work during the day, I patrolled during the night… Selina's role left her at the Manor for far too many hours. Something we had discussed off and on. Something that we never really solved save with rare dinners in town and weekend road trips that barely lasted a day.

We had spent part of the fall working out some of the most pertinent details of our wedding, having the ceremony and reception at the Manor making it a fraction less difficult. The date was set for June fifteenth, the wedding itself to be outdoors near the rose garden and in smaller dining hall if the weather failed us. The Farmer's Almanac and weather patterns predicted clear skies and mildly warm temperatures. A perfect day to stand outside in a three piece tuxedo…

We also had a rough idea for a guest list, smaller than what would be expected of me by the social vultures but I honestly wanted it to be as painless of a process as possible. A catering company that Alfred turned to for many of the events housed at the Manor over the years was more than willing to offer their services. Thankfully, they would also help in selecting the menu, the serving ware and offer cake designing as well.

I thought we were practically set but Selina would remind me that we were nearly a fifth of the way done in preparing for the event.

"What are we looking at now?" I asked, seeming as interested as I could.

She pushed a tuxedo catalog towards me, "Figured I've had my dress picked out for weeks… time to get you garbed."

I noticed several tabs of sticky notes indicating her selections she had already pre-selected for me. I had seven tuxes of varying styles in my closet but they obviously weren't worthy of the occasion. Opening to the first marker, she tapped at a catalog picture that had a tall, handsome young man sporting a three-piece single-breasted tux, black onyx buttons and cuff links with a simple tie. The vest was cut slightly higher than those I wore, something different.

"It's nice," I said quietly, thinking how all tuxes looked nice.

"You don't like it."

The tone of her voice hit me like ice water, even though she said it softly. "I said it looked nice… if I didn't like it, I would have said it didn't look nice."

"You going to be a wiseass all day?" Selina asked, her left eyebrow arching dangerously.

"No, dear."

She flipped through the pages of the magazine, showing the different cuts she had picked for her top five. Although there were minute alterations in lapels, button placement, piping and lining, it really seemed to me that it was the same tux over and over, just with a different name. Alfred was a tailoring master so alterations would be a breeze, it just depended on what suit he ended up working on. Not that I had a choice in the matter…

It would be pointless to voice as much, as it would only encourage Selina to stop tracing her big toe up and down my leg and to kick my shin instead.

At the last marked page, she showed me a single-breasted three-button tuxedo. It was complimented with a white cotton wing-collared shirt and a dark platinum vest by Ralph Lauren. I let go of Mattie's hand to point to it, "What about this one?"

A hopeful smile came to her lips, "Really? The vest isn't too much?"

I looked again at the silver and black design, "Not really. Besides, wearing all black isn't any fun."

She laughed, "So that's why your belt is yellow."

Glaring at her, I replied, "Funny."

Selina sat back in the chair, looking down at Mattie, "Well, I try." The soft look of her face changed slightly before she asked, "Have you given any thought about a best man?"

We had broached the subject of the actual wedding party on a few occasions, most often when we shared a few moments alone after Mattie went to bed for the night and before I left for the city. It was no secret that I didn't have friends in a true sense as I viewed most individuals as colleagues, allies, protégés or foes. Those that stood out I had come to accept as my Family, making it all the more difficult to narrow it down.

Alfred, who was like a father to me, would most likely be kept occupied with making sure everything was in perfect order for the special occasion. And Dick had become more like a son than friend, as had Tim. Clark was an option but I really didn't want a lecture about marrying a reformed criminal. Which left only one person…

Jim.

He was invited to dinner that afternoon but I was unsure as to what his final decision had been. Regrettably, I had been unable to touch base with him the night before convenience store murders had taken place, simply too busy with small tasks to make my way to Tri-Corner. His top detectives from special crimes had been on the scene, along with forensic technicians, but the commissioner had long since called it a night.

Not that I could blame him. He had been fighting the same fight as I had been in Gotham for just as long, working his way up the ranks in a police department as corrupt as the city it governed. Despite all that my younger allies had faced, no other being had endured as much as he, losing his wife, nearly losing his daughter and his own life numerous times.

There really was no other I would have standing beside me, especially after last year.

I looked up to see Selina still waiting for a reply. The only one I could give her was, "Not really… what about you?"

Selina began to chew on her lip, a telltale sign that she was unsure of something, "Same boat… And here I was worried about hair up or down…"

I answered while rising to my feet, "Down."

"Up."

Leaning over to kiss her cheek, I replied "Yes, dear."

^V^

"Ack!" I cried out as my grip failed on the third rotation around the top parallel bar.

A mere second later, I found myself sprawled over the somewhat soft padding with serious mat burn on the left half of my face. With a growl, I pushed myself up with my hands and sat beneath the bars. Returning to school has put a significant damper on my physical training, leaving me to do what I could with our fitness center.

Not to stand out, I kept up with most of the other guys with cardio work and weight lifting. We had a kickboxing team but I passed on joining as any sort of success at that was a flag for a computer geek such as myself. A full course load, absent social life and my father checking up on me sporadically had made life a reasonable mess. I hadn't been to Gotham in three weeks, leaving Bruce and Cass to manage on their own.

Given that I had a five day weekend for Thanksgiving, I had packed up my duffle bag and made the drive home to Bristol. It wasn't the distance that kept me from trekking to Gotham to help uphold my crime fighting responsibilities, it was the lack of time. I had spent most of my nights in my dorm room wondering if I could swing down the parkway to meet up with Bruce and Cass for at least three hours on the streets. But with eight in the morning classes, working as a tutor for extra class credit and a nosy roommate, the risks never seemed to be worthwhile.

With a grunt, I rose to my feet and jumped up in one fluid motion, grabbing the lower bar with both hands. After a few back and forth swings, I pushed on and did a complete rotation around the bar. Once. Twice. Halfway through the third, I growled as I released and spread my hands out in order to latch onto the higher bar. I had lost some momentum in the jump but regained it quickly by straightening my arms and body. I completed another two rounds before pausing on the upside down vertical.

Hold it, Tim, I screamed inside, as long as you can.

After forty seconds of sheer agony racing up and down my arms, I allowed my body to soften and fall in a backwards rotation, circling two final times before letting go. Landing in a handspring, I finally made it to my feet in one piece. Out of breath, covered in sweat, but in one piece.

I started to dust my hands off when I heard Bruce clearing his throat from behind me.

An audience for my half-ass performance. A tall, dark and gloomy audience at that. I hadn't seen him since my last trek home and even in s a few weeks I noticed the differences. He was nearly back to his original form physically and there was no doubt in my mind that he was already there mentally. Seeing him in action when Two-Face had escaped had been worrisome at the time but he ended up walking away not too much worse for the wear.

None of us should have doubted him. He was Batman. Always would be.

"Not too bad, Tim," he stated, but without any shred of pride, "Your upper body strength needs some work though. Almost buckled twice in the last fifteen seconds."

I faced him, running a hand through my hair, "Yeah, we don't exactly have gymnastic equipment in Brentwood... Although we do have a new sauna and tanning beds."

"How is school?" he asked as an afterthought.

Approaching him, I answered as truthfully as possible, "Not too bad… I mean… I'm still counting down the days left in this semester, but that's only because of winter break."

"It will be good to have you back," he started, making me think it was a compliment. Then he added, "It's been difficult getting to the north end of the city every night with Dick back in Bludhaven."

"I bet… how have things been?" I asked, stepping after him as he trekked towards the computer bay.

"Things have been quiet… a little too quiet." Before I could respond he continued, "Didn't know you were going to be here… at least not this early."

As we reached the elevated tier, he took a seat before the computer and put his fingers to the keyboard. I chose to stand just to his left, watching as he made his way into GCPD secure forensic files as if he was checking his e-mail. Reading over his shoulder, I replied, "Well, I woke up at seven, couldn't fall back asleep. Figured I might as well burn the calories off before I stuff them into my face."

"Good plan. Although save something for tonight."

"Sure… Was this… last night?" I asked as he brought up news reports from a multiple homicide in the Bowery. From the looks of things, the suspect was fatally wounded by one of his victims. Not the best way to solve a whodunnit…

"This morning, technically."

I suddenly felt as if getting up early had been a good thing. Bruce rose from his seat, giving it to me to sort through all of the evidence forensics had uploaded to their computer systems. With me in the throne, he had gone down a tier to the evidence bay, finally getting to take a closer look at what he had collected. Without him looking, I had checked to see that he had signed off of the Oracom shortly before five.

It was just after nine and he was still going strong.

Falling back into the natural swing of things, I downloaded all of their information, under untraceable CPU account information, of course. For the better part of an hour and a half, we worked in near silence, he on the physical while I delved into the digital. Fingerprints, blood spatter patterns, preliminary coroner's reports along with hundreds and hundreds of digital photographs. Recreating the chaotic crime scene that had left four people dead in a near blink of an eye.

As my watch read ten after ten, I heard Bruce ascending the metal steps. Looking over my shoulder, I asked, "Find anything good?"

"Not especially… you?"

"Well, they seem to have a pretty good handle on things… I was just reading through their explanation of what went down… not sure I entirely agree with their order of events though. Seems that from the spatter patterns, the suspect went after the female victim first, eldest male intervened, was stunned… got back up _after _the suspect already took the female and the youngest male victim…"

"Make a note of it."

"Will do."

Completely off topic, he was quick to ask, "Staying for dinner?"

I glanced up at him, "Yeah, Dad and Dana are out of town for the weekend…. Speaking of which, Dad wants to make sure his schedule is clear for the wedding… set a date yet?"

He nodded slightly before answering, "June fifteenth. Save the date cards will be going out in February."

"I'll let him know… he still can't believe you're finally settling down."

Although Bruce was an obsessively controlling individual, there were still some things he would never be able to domineer. Like Selina. Their impending marriage was a hot topic not only in the social circles of Gotham but much closer to home. Even after all we had endured the previous year, having Bruce recover had been the next logical step in getting life back to normal. Where Bruce had returned to the cowl, I honestly had half-expected Selina to do the same.

I knew if I had dared to ask either of them curiosity would kill the Robin.

"I highly doubt getting married will lead to settling down for him, Tim."

We both looked towards the base of the granite steps to see Dick approaching. I quickly made it to my feet, ready to greet him once he came up to the computer bay. Bruce seemed less enthusiastic, choosing to cross his arms over his chest.

Smirking, I said, "Surprised you weren't here first thing to pre-game with breakfast."

"There are only so many Pennyworth meals my digestive system can tolerate in one day," he patted his stomach as he stepped up in front of me, pulling me into a rough embrace that quickly turned into a headlock.

Once I escaped, I flattened my hair back down and replied, "Missed you, too."

Dick then looked to our mentor, "How's it going?"

"Fine," Bruce answered while offering his hand, "You're early, dinner isn't until three."

Without hesitating, Dick grasped it and shook it briefly, "Barbara is coming up later, with Jim… figured it wouldn't hurt to come and get my younger sibling fix."

"Mattie is with her mother up in the den," he replied.

Dick nodded, "I know… I stopped in quick o my way down here… but I should start from oldest to youngest." He then looked to me, "Game on?"

"Oh, it's on." My smirk had evolved into a full on grin. Save for Alfred's feast and a few nights of patrols, getting time on the training mats with my best friend was my highlight of my long weekend home. I had expected it not to happen until the weekend but if he wanted his own case of mat burn, I wasn't about to deny him.

Bruce cleared his throat, waiting to speak until our eyes were on him, "No bleeding, no breaks, no sprains… Alfred has enough on his plate today."

"Yes, sir," we answered in near unison.

With a final shake of his head, Bruce excused himself quietly before heading towards the steps. I had expected him to work right up until dinner, requiring Selina or Alfred to drag him upstairs. Then again, it wasn't that hard to calculate how much work he would be able to accomplish with the two of us in proximity of one another.

Rather than race down to the training bay, we walked side by side casually down the steps and across the main tier. After sitting in the chair and knowing he had just spent at least and hour and a half battling holiday traffic from Bludhaven, we took a few minutes to limber up. While doing so, I asked, "You going to ask the question?"

"To Babs?" he blurted out while swinging his arms in broad circles.

"No, to Bruce, dummy… about the wedding." When he continued to stare at me, I reminded him, "Remember the other day… you were wondering who he was going to pick for best man? You wouldn't stop texting me? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Dick stared at me with a completely blank look on his face. Then, without warning, he lunged with a fierce smile on his face, "How's this for ringing a bell?"

Our laughter was interrupted only by grunts, sharp inhalations and cries of effort, along with solid thuds, hard smacks and of feet taking flight and landing. He held nothing back, encouraging me to do the same. Once upon a time, our spars had been more of a basic form of exercise before a night of patrols. In the last year and a half, they had become much more, something between a test and a pure release of aggravation at the world.

Given that I had US Government paper due Monday, had four unpaid campus parking tickets and a roommate who never brushed his teeth, it felt good to release that pent up negative energy on my big brother.

^V^

I had no intention of going into work on Thanksgiving. Just as I had no intention of giving in to nicotine, divorcing my first wife and having more grey hairs in my moustache than brown. Then again, fifteen years helming the GCPD had a way interfering.

Leaving the house at ten after seven that morning, I promised myself to be out by noon. Barbara had asked that I meet her at her place but I had told her to be prepared to drag me out of my office. Crime didn't take a holiday and neither did I. I had department monthly reports to review, IA complaints to brief, requests to turn down, a budget that was sixteen weeks overdue and still on its third draft…

Not that I was going to even get to any of that.

Instead, my morning was dedicated to barking down the necks of the detectives that had been assigned the worst case of the previous night and touring forensics, making sure there were no loopholes being knitted. A sparse ten minutes alone in my office wasn't spent returning phone calls, but watching a news broadcaster barely touch the surface of how tragic the previous night had been.

As expected, Barbara called at eleven-thirty to inform me that she and Cassandra were still on track for leaving at noon. Before hanging up, I promised her that I would be there and ready to go. I had worn the same suit I had on Tuesday to work, bringing a clean sweater and slacks for dinner. It would take me all of ten minutes to change and wash up, leaving no excuse not to be at her doorstep at eleven-fifty.

The very thought crossed my mind as I rapped on her door at quarter of one.

Barbara opened it so quickly, I wondered if she had been waiting just on the other side, "We're going to be late."

Stepping into her atrium, I apologized then added, "The man invented the fashionably late entrance. I'm sure he'll understand."

She shook her head, "Bruce I'm not worried about… Alfred on the other hand…"

"So he'll give us one less slice of pumpkin pie. I'm sure we'll survive."

She sighed again while pulling on a fitted wool coat, calling out to Cassandra that I had arrived. While waiting for her, Barbara then looked up at me and smirked, "You say that now, Dad."

Having taken a cab, Barbara drove, battling the traffic with her savvy and her GPS that monitored congested roadways. With Cassandra sitting quietly in the backseat, I rode shotgun and did my best to keep up mild conversation with my daughter. It predicted our arrival time to be two-thirty at best, a time that increased as we hit a stand still on the Westward Bridge. Barbara managed to keep her road rage under control, using the extended time we had alone together to chat about work.

In turn, I had inquired about life, teasing her about her relationship with Dick Grayson.

Barbara yelling at me for being nosy made Cassandra snicker from the backseat.

It was nice catching up with her, not only as a mean to pass the time with… not the I minded being late.

I had been invited to dinner that afternoon in two manners. First, I had dropped in at Barbara's after work one evening to find Dick was visiting. He had instinctually risen from the couch, took my hand into his and asked what I was doing for Thanksgiving. It had been hard to deny him at the time, but I had managed to promise to think about it.

The following night, I had arrived home to find a message on my answering machine: "Jim, It's me… Listen, if you don't have plans yet, I… well, we would love to have you up to the house next Thursday… Dinner is around three… all right, then."

He had done a fair job of making it sound like a casual invitation, but I had known him far too long to ignore the slight change in timber, the barely noticeable anxiety in his voice.

Since his recovery in May and his unannounced return to the mantle over the summer, I had found it difficult to socialize with Bruce Wayne. We had bumped elbows at a handful events over the last several months, all of the interactions as casual as they were cordial. We had chatted while waiting in line at the bar at the Mayor's birthday party and had shaken hands at a Wayne Foundation banquet in September. In fact, the last I had seen him socially, I had been at a lunch meeting with some big shot that was going to donate new squad cars.

Bruce Wayne had been three tables away, eating lunch with his fiancée and acting as if he didn't have a care in the world.

We hadn't even interacted, simply offering curt nods from a distance.

Somehow, I felt that the distance was only going to grow over time…

Once on the other side of the bridge, the pace picked up, even more so once we were off of the St. James Expressway and on the exit for Bristol. Barbara seemed to be driving on auto-pilot, making the turns without conscious effort. As we made the final approach up the long drive to Wayne Manor, she joked that I wasn't going to recognize Mattie from the last time I had seen her.

"She's huge… and her hair is practically to her shoulders, even with all of those curls," she added as we passed through the main gates.

Parking behind the garage, we exited the car just as the light snow clouds opened up from above, releasing tiny white flakes. I looked up, letting a few flakes collect on my glasses before removing them, wiping the droplets away with the edge of my sweater. Glancing to the other side of the car, I spotted Cassandra standing by as Barbara as she maneuvered herself into her chair.

I asked, "Supposed to snow much tonight?"

Barbara shook her head, "In the city, a dusting. Out here, up to two inches."

Following them through the entranceway that sat between the garage and the house, I recognized the small area on the other side as what called a billionaire's mud room. Marble counter top, white porcelain sink and stained cabinets with ornate carving on them lined the far wall, decorated with two glass vases of bright orange and white flower arrangements. Even the dark, tiled floor was highlighted with a thick wool rug. Barbara shrugged out of her coat and offered it to me. When I simply stared at her, she pointed behind me at a wall mounted coat rack as Cassandra set hers on a brass hook.

After hanging hers up between a light gray wool coat and a well worn down jacket, I set mine beside a black leather jacket that had seen better days.

Proceeding into the house through the service entrance, I followed her down the broad, quiet corridor, my glasses fogging in the sudden warmth. There were faint cooking smells, nothing I could pinpoint save for cinnamon and melted butter. They kept going, casually making their way to the main corridor, leaving me two strides behind and feeling like an intruder. Heading towards the front of the house, I finally heard voices, causing me to inhale deeply.

The main den's oak double doors were wide open, revealing a blazing fireplace and chatting figures. Dick stood with Tim by a small table of appetizers and drinks, deep in conversation while pointing at the foodstuffs before them. Gazing over the room, I found Selina sitting with Dr. Thompkins on the small sofa near the fireplace. My eyes barely registered that Dick was approaching, instead seeking out the figure that was missing.

Where was he?

Ignoring Dick as he bent at the waist to kiss Barbara's cheek, I spotted the top of someone head over on the far side of the room, barely noticeable above a wooden credenza. I smirked at Dick, shook his hand and subconsciously thanked him for inviting me. Pleasantries over, I began to cross the room with uncertain steps, still unable to see the figure hidden from my line of sight.

I did, however, see Mattie as she was standing up against the floor to ceiling window, staring out in wonder at the snow falling. Her tiny hands were pressed against the cold glass, her eyes tracking from high to low, her toddler ramblings starting soft then growing louder with excitement. A bare forearm reached out to gently support her lower back when she began to bounce up and down, followed by soft words, "Easy, kitten."

She replied with, "Lowie!"

"I know, I see it's snowing."

My eyes could hardly believe that the gray-haired man caressing the toddler's back was indeed the Batman.

Without looking back at me, he said, "Hello, Jim."

"Bruce…" I replied softly.

"Glad you could make it up for dinner," he continued, his eyes never leaving Mattie as she began gently patting her hands on the window.

My grim face finally broke into a soft smile as I felt all the frustration and worry fade away. I had known him for the better part of two decades, inside and out of the mask. In all honesty, when thinking of the few friends I kept, his face always came to mind first. Granted our friendship had taken on considerable change recently, it was no match for what we had endured in previous years.

We had been to Hell and back at each others' sides time and time again.

Thanksgiving dinner had nothing on that.

"Lord, look how big she's gotten," I found myself saying.

He smiled and leaned closer to her, gently kissing the back of her head before he rose to his feet, "Yes she has."

"Walking yet?"

"Almost," his gaze finally found my face, "Walks pretty well while hanging on to something. Another couple of weeks and she'll be chasing us all around."

"I can picture that."

Bending at the waist, he picked her up, holding her so she faced me, "See who's here, Mattie?"

If angels existed on Earth, she was certainly one of them. Her round face was framed with black curls, her light skin tinted a faint pink along her cheeks. Her eyes were replicas of her father's, although slightly brighter given her care-free existence. She grinned for no reason at all, showing off a few of her baby teeth, followed swiftly by her hiding behind Bruce's head.

Looking at her father's half-smirk, I noticed for the first time the complete lack of anxiety, the façade I had bore witness to for so many years was truly gone.

And I had to admit, it fell pretty damned good.

^V^

Allowing myself a half of a day at the Free Clinic and only a few hours at the soup kitchen just down the block, I returned home briefly. I showered quickly, pinned my short hair back and donned one of the few outfits I had that weren't medical scrubs. Although the last few months had real life pulling me away from my family, I had promised to join them for dinner that afternoon.

After all, we had more to be thankful for than the previous year.

I took the train to Bristol, quietly watching as the urban atmosphere gave way to suburbia and then finally Mother Nature. With Alfred overseeing the dinner preparations, I expected Dick or Tim to be waiting for me at the train station. As the cars slowed and brakes rebelled audibly, I spotted only four cars in the pick-up and drop-off lane. The only familiar one was a glossy black town car.

With an even more familiar figure already out and standing at the passenger side door.

Once the train was motionless and the sliding doors had parted, I rose to my feet, adjusted my winter coat and followed the handful of other passengers outside. Approaching the vehicle and its driver, I smiled warmly, "Don't you have a turkey to tend to?"

Alfred smirked, tiny flakes of snow decorated his black wool coat and his flat cap, "I have several in fact, madam."

Before taking the passenger seat, I leaned forward and kissed him softly, "Happy thanksgiving, old man."

"And to you, my dear," he replied with a smirk.

When we were both seated in the car, Alfred deftly navigated out of the parking lot, the stop light keeping him from departing. I smiled at him and asked, "So, how is everyone?"

"Quite pleasant," he started before the light turned, allowing him to drive on, "And hungry. Master Dick has already polished off the hors d'oeurves…"

"He's still a growing boy…"

He continued without missing a beat, "And Miss Cassandra and Master Tim were last quarrelling over the remnants of the egg nog."'

"Well, the poor dears have to suffice with cardboard cartons of it unless there is a holiday gathering…" When he didn't say anything else, I inquired about our eldest.

"Fairly good spirits."

"Considering… did you see-."

He nodded, "I did, he has yet to say anything about it… Although I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing."

"Both," I answered, "He's making an effort to make this a normal family gathering… but while everyone is eating dinner, he'll be letting it eat him up from the inside out."

Alfred was quiet for a good five minutes before clearing his throat. After glancing to me briefly, he smirked, "Miss Mattie is quite precious in her dress… Although I fear for it when she tastes cranberry sauce for the first time."

With the conversation directed towards our beloved surrogate grandchild, the remainder of the trek was much lighter in spirit. Making our way up the drive, I was surprised to see that the light snowfall was already collecting on the pavement, lawn and trees. There were many that loathed the coming of winter but I always welcomed it with open arms. The tidings it brought, the chilly mornings and of course, bright, white, clean snow.

Combined, they seemed to make life a little more manageable.

Once inside, I joined Alfred in the kitchen before making my presence known to the others. The room was warm both in temperature and aromas, only natural considering that most of the marble countertops were covered in platters and serving bowls filled with food. I asked him if everything was set and he shook his head.

"The turkey has another ten minutes or so…" he paused as he approached an apple pie that was cooling beside its pumpkin crumb counterpart, "Although it appears my brief excursion has yielded to an intruder."

When he pointed out a small piece of crust missing, I smirked, "I would say you could dust it for fingerprints, but we both know who the guilty party is."

He sighed before proceeding to check the other foodstuffs, "I am surprised Master Dick managed to resist taking a slice…"

Between the two of us, we moved the side dishes, warm rolls and two pitchers of ice water into the dining room with minimal trips. By then, he deemed the internal temperature of the glazed turkey was up to his standards and proceeded to carve it. With his refusing to allow me to help any further, I left him to his craft to seek out the rest of the family.

A feat that wasn't hard to do given the volume of their combined voices and laughter.

Sounds that I had dearly missed echoing in the great house.

I heard Selina speak as I stepped into the den, "Look who's here, Mattie…"

The others, seated or standing throughout the expansive room also looked up and offered collected greetings. I smiled and returned the gesture, taking gentle embraces from Dick, Tim and Cass before leaning over to kiss the cheeks of Selina, Barbara and the little girl that sat between them. Glancing around, I found myself asking, "Where's Bruce?"

Barbara answered, "Actually he went outside a little while ago to take a walk with my dad."

I suddenly found myself wondering if he was simply catching up with his friend or if they were talking business, hoping it was the former.

It wasn't long until Alfred arrived, announcing that dinner was served and all were welcome to take their seats in the dining room. As a staggered group, moved down the hall, couples moving together as we walked towards the dining room. Dick naturally went to Barbara, followed by Selina carrying Mattie and Tim and Cassandra nearly last, joking about something softly.

Alfred and I brought up the rear, encouraging me to latch my hand onto his.

As we reached the open arched entrance, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. Alfred proceeded to follow the others, leaving me to watch on as Bruce and Jim made their way up the corridor, each sporting a bit of melting snow in their hair and on their shoulders. They were talking softly but once they spotted me, each stopped abruptly.

"You should wear a jacket, young man…" I said as Bruce paused before me.

He smirked, before saying, "Yes, Leslie."

Even with Jim watching, he didn't hesitate to step forward and accept a hug from me.

Jim tried to offer a hand for me to shake, but I shook my head, "Nice try," before embracing him as well. Releasing him, I looked back to Bruce and asked, "When are you going to start carving the turkey?"

Leading the way into the dinning room, he replied, "Alfred has all of the knives… It's not worth the risk."

Most of the family had already found their places, still in the pairings that they had been while departing the den. Selina was coercing Mattie into the highchair, the child already pulling a the bib around her neck. Bruce was quick to join her, entertaining his daughter while Selina adjusted the tray. Dick remarked, "Is she ready to rock and roll?"

I smirked with Mattie slapped her hands down on the tray several times, giggling in delight.

"I take that as a yes," her older brother nodded.

When everyone was seated save for Alfred, he spoke softly, "I know this Family is not religious in the normal sense… But we do have much to give considerable thanks for… especially this year. Despite all odds, our Family has proceeded to grow, to prosper and to live in good health. And it is my sincerest wish, that we continued to do so."

"Amen," I found myself whispering.

A brief pause was interrupted by dick's light voice, "Let the feasting begin."

Mattie was precious throughout the meal, alternately eating from the spoonfuls her father presented her and grasping tiny handfuls of food and feeding herself. Bruce tended to her flawlessly, gently encouraging her to eat while leaving his plate untouched. The others carried on numerous conversations, many of them enticing laughter, while tasting each dish that passed around.

For some reason, I thought back on the early weeks Bruce had spent in recovery the previous year. Weeks where he himself had to been hand fed as he tried to relearn his coordination to hold utensils…

Nothing had ever stood between Bruce and what he wanted to learn for very long, even before Tom and Martha had died. He would always brag on about his boy as if the child had been full grown and contributing to society. Having a child so late in life had left him with a five-year-old boy where his colleagues had boys preparing for college.

At one fundraiser, I had heard him proudly boast that his six-year-old Bruce was already ready chapter books. A real bright boy.

Towards the end of the meal, Mattie had grown fussy, tiny whimpers escaping from her petite mouth. After wiping her face and hands, Bruce removed her from the chair and walked with her in the hall.

"Long time to sit still, huh?" Barbara asked.

Selina nodded, her eyes still on doorway they had departed through, "For who, the baby or Bruce?"

While he was gone, the topic of the conversation had drawn everyone's attention, namely embarrassing storied about Dick growing up in the Manor. After recounting the tale of when he had used the great hall's chandelier as a part of an intricate trapeze act. Dick proceeded to explain the mechanics of the acrobatic routine and how it wasn't his fault that the crystal laden light fixture was placed perfectly in his path.

Alfred shook his head as he rose to his feet, "Perhaps you can redeem yourself yet, sir…"

Dick and Tim stood as well, helping clear the dishes to make way for dessert. Although Alfred didn't immediately return with them, I noticed he had sent the boys back armed with a carafe of coffee and a tray of cups and saucers. Bruce returned just in time to decline the caffeinated beverage, in spite of the tired look in his eyes.

"Good," Jim remarked, "More for this old man."

Once seated beside his wife again, Bruce finally surrendered to her offers and handed their daughter over. Child happily sitting in her mother's lap, he finally started on his dinner. Tim joked that Bruce was just in time as they were about to divvy out his plate amongst themselves.

"Gluttons, all of you," Bruce said with a soft smirk.

Alfred once more beckoned the assistance of Dick, hinting that he was the one who had already sampled the apple pie. When they returned, Dick carried a large serving tray of wedges of apple, pumpkin and cherry pies. They toured together around the table, Alfred serving as requests were made. Reaching me, I shook my head, "There is no room, trust me."

Bruce declined, as did Selina, but she took a small piece for Mattie to experiment with. We watched on quietly as the young girl giggled, pressing her fingers into the filling and trying to grab at the dollop of whipped cream.

"You say thank you, Mattie?" Selina asked, leaning forward to kiss her daughter's head. "Say thank you."

I, along with everyone else, had not expected to hear, "Danky… Alfie."

In a span of three seconds, Dick spat out his pie crust onto the table and onto Barbara, Tim knocked over his water glass, Selina dropped her fork, Cassandra stole Tim's pie plate, Jim gasped audibly, Barbara wiped the pie that had been spat on her and Bruce starred in silent disbelief.

All the while, Alfred stood with a smug grin on his face. He then bowed so that he was eye level with the toddler, "You are very welcome, Miss Mattie."

The child had a very limited vocabulary, her words mere shadows of what they most likely meant. Ever her term for her parents, _dahie _and _mahie_, was never clear when she uttered it. At least not as clear as the precious _Alfie _she had just said.

Everyone proceeded to regret not having their cameras or cell phones out to document the child's first distinct and discernable word. Dick laughed that he wanted to be the next name she said, quickly followed by Tim asking if he really wanted her to call him Dickie. I looked on as Selina kissed the little girl on her lap once more, telling her how she could make as big of a mess as she wanted to after her achievement.

Bruce, who had been silent to that point, finally smirked again, commenting that Alfred offering his babysitting duties so willingly over the last few months had been devious in nature.

Sharp as ever, Alfred quickly replied, "I coached her equally to say several words… It is pure coincidence that we practiced saying my name during snack time."

Smiles all around.

A happier Thanksgiving would be hard to find.

^V^


	9. Life Is Good: IX

Title: Life Is Good: IX

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.

^V^

At ten after eleven, we took a break, crouching on an apartment rooftop and doing our best not to shiver.

"I feel like singing Silent Night," Robin chided.

I glared at him and replied, "Don't jinx it."

It had been quiet, unreasonably so. Most of the work we had come across for the last few nights had been primarily counter-theft. Stopping armed burglars and muggers, groups of young men breaking into electronic stores and a handful of sub-geniuses trying to hijack tractor trailers and delivery trucks filled for the holiday shopping season.

Patrolling the northern area of the city with Robin, we had already navigated through the boroughs of Sommerset, Charon and Glendale. With his being home for winter break, Tim had quickly settled right back into work, touring Gotham as if he had not been at school for the last few months. During his brief time home for Thanksgiving, he had been unable to truly tune himself back into his guise, making patrols with him uneasy.

After his first official week back home, we were I synch and keeping the scum of Gotham in line without a hitch.

With Batman working through the Bowery, chasing a lead on a possible Blu Flu gang hideout, we had the rest of the city to ourselves. Nightwing was busy tending to Bludhaven and Oracle was trying to cover our communication and information requests but also those of the Justice League as they battled a terrorist attack in Turkey. I had wondered why Batman had chosen not to join their efforts but figured it wasn't worth the glare.

"You guys busy?" Oracle's voice came over the general line.

"Not especially," Robin replied, "What's up?"

"Well, turns out Fries hasn't made his last meeting with his parole officer and isn't at his apartment… and after being spot on for the last three months..."

Robin finished for her, "Not a good sign."

The dishonored doctor had been released from Arkham on parole since late September, performing community service at Hudson University, trying to right the wrongs he had done. His wife, still cryogenically frozen, was housed in a private room off of the laboratory he worked out of. As with any criminal of interest that was released, we had been keeping tabs of his activities, even having me shadow him for his first two days out of the asylum.

With Fries apparently on the right path, I asked Batman if he thought that the man was truly reformed.

He said that if anyone would be capable of it, it would have been Victor.

"Well, we aren't too far from his apartment complex… we can swing by and take a look," Robin offered as he prepared his grapple gun.

"I'll let him know… no doubt he will want to take a look himself once he leaves the East End."

"We will lay out the welcome mate for him," he replied before closing the connection. Looking to me, he smirked, "Well, tonight just got a whole lot more interesting."

"Became."

"What?" he asked, his left brow rising and tugging at the corner of his mask.

"Became, not got," I answered, using the cover of my guise to smirk back at him.

Shaking his head, Robin turned and aimed his grapple gun at an adjacent building, "You have been spending way too much time with Barbara… or Alfred."

Firing my own line without taking the time to calculate, I called out, "Both," before taking flight.

In spite of the mild weather reports, the second week of December had brought nearly a foot of snow, even in the heart of the city. Dump trucks and plows were still working on moving the piles of dirty snow out of the way, working nearly as late as we did. Traversing slick rooftops, jumping narrow alleyways and occasionally looking back to see where Robin was, I thought that it was the perfect time for Fries to snap.

Winter wonderland.

I reached the apartment building two minutes before my partner, taking the spare time to overlook the city skyline. The air was foggy, reflecting the lights to make everything look aglow. On our previous treks into the city, I had dragged Robin to see the grand Christmas tree that stood on Wayne Plaza. The first time we had visited it, he had told me that he ad Dick used to dare each other to steal ornaments from it, including the star that crowned it.

The following night, I had snatched the star without hesitation.

Upon landing on the slick patch of roof beside me, Robin quickly consulted his hand held computer from his utility belt. I peered over his shoulder as he used the device to pick up electromagnetic pulses from the apartments below up, switching the sensors to thermographic. If Fries had been inside, there would have been an intense black image amongst the blues, greens and reds.

"Coast looks clear… let's go," he said, pocketing the device before making his way to the fire escape.

Letting him lead the way, I followed two steps behind him, glancing into the darkened windows as we walked by them. Most of the beings within had their eyes glued to the flicker of a television screen. Just before reaching our target window, I caught a young face staring at us in awe. The child raced across her bedroom, face pressed against the window while calling out for her mother.

Thankfully, robin had managed to unlock the window and let us in by the time the little girl's mother arrived to peer outside, no doubt dismissing the sighting to an overactive imagination. Fighting off a smirk, I left the window open behind me, feeling my focus sharpen. In tense moments, I never felt stressed, but instead became calmer, as if it was better to be in danger than not.

A little something I had picked up from my tragic youth.

Although it was chilly outside, the living space we had broken into was frigid. Robin quickly walked over to an industrial air conditioning unit that took up most of the barren living room and shut it off, remarking that the temperature was set to zero degrees Celsius. Fighting off shivers, we navigated the cramped rooms, looking for any sign of Fries.

The apartment was barely furnished, but kept neat and orderly. Scuffed hardwood floors were spotless, the papers and folders on the old oak desk organized in piles and the tiny kitchen outfitted with a near empty refrigerator, clean sink and a single chair at the table. Everything in sight was coated in a crystalline, white film.

It barely looked like anyone lived there… then again, Fries lived for his work, for his wife.

"Not much to go on," Robin commented, skimming through the documents on the frosted surface of the desk, "He kept the place pretty secure… even the front door has an electronically activated lock, thermal insulation and treatments on the walls, windows…."

Looking at my lens display, I was surprised to see the room temperature was already on a rapid rise, nearly ten degrees above freezing. Tragic to think that leaving the window open had allowed the warm air in for once.

He turned to face me before continuing, his words escaping his lips in puffs of white, "No computer… must keep it secure somewhere… a place that isn't freezing."

Thinking back to moments earlier, I remarked that the closet door wasn't covered in frost in the hallway. We backtracked towards the narrow with the intent to at the very least browse the contents of the small storage area. Passing the locked front door, we froze mid-step at the sound of a soft beep, followed by the door knob turning.

The second Fries appeared, I was on him, landing three solid jabs to his midsection and two roundhouses to his right kidney. With each hit, I flinched, his armored suit sending jolts of pain through my bones. I felt Robin's batarangs whiz by me as I ducked Fries' swinging arm, but each piece of metal bounced off of his protected torso as easily as my blows had.

Fries growled, "Underlings... I do not have time for this."

He swung at me once more, trying to brush me aside. I ducked it easily enough, flipping backwards onto my palms in order to plant my feet into his diaphragm. The strike was enough to force him back a step, making him regain his composure before charging once more. Even though I was prepared to make another attempt on him by myself, Robin dove at him, armed with an electronically charge device in his palm.

From my scarce encounters with him, I knew there was no way to beat Fries physically or intellectually. It was difficult for me to rely on anything but my own skill and basic array of weaponry. Nightwing, Robin and even Batman never hesitated with going for the gadgets.

Regrettably, the innovative act didn't have any ill effect on Fries, angering him even more if anything. Sparks flying from where Robin had planted the device on the battery pack of the cold suit, Fries managed to snag my partner's cape with just two fingers. It was just enough, however, for Fries to reel him in with one quick movement, sending Robin flying down the hall.

Before his attention turned back to me, I threw a set of bolos at him to at the very least slow him down. In training drills, Batman had always stressed that causing damage to the suit's helmet or power source was the most effective way to take him down. Given that Robin had chosen the latter, I opted for the former.

Launching my foot at the back of his head, he moved far too swiftly given the weight of the suit, ensnaring my calf in his death grip. His other hand came just as fast to grasp my throat. I couldn't breathe, his grip was like steel. Robin was motionless still, laying where he had fallen nearly ten yards away.

My head growing faint, the only word that made its way to my lips was a staggered, "N-no…"

A crack sounded in the room and suddenly Fries had let go of my neck. Instinctively, I tucked and rolled away from him, taking deep breaths to make up for the last minute of suffocation.

I glanced up just in time to see Fries spinning away from me, crashing face first into the reinforced door he had just entered through. Helmet shattered, he then collapsed to the floor, already gasping as his body was exposed to the above zero temperatures.

Catwoman sighed, "Night night, Snow Man," then kicked Fries in the temple, silencing him.

^V^

Although I did my best to make use of the Manor's fitness room, chasing around my daughter generally took most of my energy from me. I always managed to fit in an hour of yoga or strength training at least four times a week, usually after Mattie went down for the night. If she was taking a solid nap during the day, I attempted to battle the elliptical or treadmill for as long as she slept or until my legs gave out on me.

Domestication had taken away my perfect figure, my reflexes, my feline-hood.

Midway through November, I decided that I was going to take it back.

Bruce hadn't made a mere mention of my increased efforts. I was up before him every morning for going on four weeks, getting my yoga done first thing. Once Mattie was with Alfred for the morning and Bruce was off to work, I was hitting the training bay in the Cave with all of my might. Tone came back to my arms, legs and torso, not nearly to the extent that it had once been but well on its way. I put myself through the paces on the gymnasium equipment, the rings and uneven bars once again becoming old friends, along with the calluses on my palms. The punch bag took near daily beatings, the weights clanked and clicked and at day's end, I was sore and tired.

If anyone asked, I planned on saying it was stress relief from planning the wedding.

At first, I had convinced myself that at the very least, I could get back to feeling the way I once had, if not look the same way. The extra work was a nice distraction but it was not a solution to my problem. The problem being that my days dragged on with redundancy, that they lacked any form of intrigue or excitement.

I didn't want much. Just something. Anything.

Having lived most of my life alone, I was always surprised at how well I had adjusted to living in Wayne Manor. Looking back, most of it could be attributed to the fact that I wanted nothing but to help Bruce recover from the shooting. Even if he wasn't able to remember the past we had shared, I had been prepared to make the most of our new life together. Together and with Mattie.

The house was huge and the grounds were spacious, but even then it was near impossible to get away for a moment alone. Whether it was with my daughter or Alfred during the day, Bruce when he came home from work or any of the others when they visited… no matter how I tried, there was no way to just be alone. Before my life had flipped upside down, I could have climbed to the top of Hart Tower, riding on the 11:15 train through the East End or even trekking to Robinson Park in the wee hours of the night.

Where it had once just been me, myself and I.

Bruce, on the other hand, had ample opportunities for solitude. At work, he could lock his office door. In the Cave, he had only to ignore the bats living up high or Alfred's sporadic intrusions. Even as he patrolled, he worked alone, leaving Cass and Tim to work as a pair.

I loved my daughter. I loved Bruce. However, I had no love for my nonexistent life.

That night had been like any other. Dinner at a little after six, retiring to the den so that Bruce could unwind and get in some hands-on time with his daughter after a long day of playing the dutiful CEO. From there, I took her upstairs for a bath and to read and rock before bed. Like clockwork, at ten of nine I had her down for the night and prepared for Alfred to rap at the door to check in one last time.

Every other night, I thanked him for all that he had done that day and told him I was set for the night.

For once, I had a favor to ask him. A big one, at that.

Given the weather, I ended up boosting one of the sportier model coupes from the Cave's garage. My first destination was to the international airport so that I could access a storage locker that I had kept for years. My emergency locker, prepped and located for a clean and easy exit had my former criminal life ever required it. Changing in the car, I proceeded back to the highway and into the city limits.

Mischief was the farthest thing from my mind. Being Catwoman had never been solely about stealing and making trouble. On a personal level, it had always been an expression of pure freedom. Free to do what I want, when I wanted and without an ounce of reliance on any other soul but my own. The criminal element started as a way to fend for myself, eventually growing into literally robbing from the rich and giving to the poor… with a little bit extra for me.

That little bit that had Batman hunting me down after nearly every big steal…

An hour or two back behind the mask, a few aerial stunts and I had expected to get the thrill seeking out of my system, especially it being my first night out in nearly two years.

Somehow that led to stopping a mugging, a free fall from the Chase Bank building and helping take down Victor Fries.

Batgirl managed to whisper, "What?"

I offered her a hand up and asked, "You all right?"

Batgirl rose as well and as we approached Tim's moaning figure, she inquired, "Where's Mattie?"

"Tucked in bed with her favorite Brit," I replied before crouching beside Tim, "Wakey wakey…"

The white lenses finally flickered briefly from green to red as Tim slowly sat up, gently rubbing his temple. He then blinked purposefully several times before swearing under his breath. When I asked if something was wrong, he shook his head, "I was hoping my lenses were fried from my face plant… but it's really you, isn't it."

I reached out with a gloved hand and gently pinched his cheek with two claws, "That it is, boy wonder."

Once he was steady on his own feet, he tracked back down the hallway and went about binding the legs and arms of the unconscious Dr. Fries. I was surprised that he was able to focus so intently on the task given the bump forming on the back of his head along with my unexpected presence. He called in to Oracle that the doctor was indeed in then looked to me, "Should I even bother to ask if he knows you're out?"

"Waste of breath," I smirked, taking a moment to cock my head towards the window I had snuck through, "Thanks for making for an east entrance… and exit."

When I turned to leave, Tim stepped forward, "Wait… do you have a comm. link?"

"And make my presence known to the powers that be? Where's the fun in that?"

He looked to Cass for a moment before sighing, reaching into a section of his belt and retrieving a small device, no bigger than a Bluetooth. As Tim handed it to me, "At least keep in touch with Oracle… she can give you a head's up before you cross paths with him."

Activating it, I placed the piece under my cowl and in my ear. After he explained that it was already set to a locked channel that would directly link to Barbara, he added, "And thanks… for the back-up."

"Anytime, kiddo. Now if you'll excuse me… I have a game of cat and bat to instigate." Taking off towards the window, I dove out into the brisk air, using the railing of the fire escape to as an anchor for a fraction of a second before giving myself over to gravity. At the very last second, I released the whip, waited for it to grow taut and then swung a deep, fast arch to the roof of the adjacent building.

Just like riding a bike.

Not a second after my feet had landed, I heard Barbara in my right ear, "Bad kitty."

"I'm having a really enjoyable evening… don't ruin it with a lecture."

She snickered before replying, "No, I think congratulations are in order, if anything." When I didn't respond, she added, "Want to plan a jewel heist?"

Tempting, I thought to myself. Instead of saying as much, I said, "I was actually trying to stay incognito tonight."

"Little rusty," she remarked.

"Yeah…" I gazed over the snow covered buildings, the air orange and hazy from the street lights, "Speaking of rusty. My Bat Radar is a little out of tune… Been trying to avoid him so far…"

"Oh, don't worry, he's still in the East End beating up Blu Flu lieutenants for intel. I just let him know that his protégés took Fries out… or did you want credit for that?"

"How did you-."

"All knowing is part of the job title." She signed off after promising to keep me posted on the big, black Bat's whereabouts as to aide my cause. A woman after my own heart, standing up against Bruce without fear.

Seeing how my cover had been blown and I had extended my neck out considerably more than I had intended for my brief venture, I decided that it was best to call it a night. Navigating by rooftop back towards the car, I made no attempt to fight the smile on my lips. The feeling of freedom and solitude was overwhelming, nearly as much as the euphoria of prowling through the night once more.

I was preparing to jump down two stories to the snow-dusted coupe when I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up on their own free will.

"Freeze."

Turning around, I offered him a quip, "Oh, don't worry, I heard he's out cold."

The angry glare he returned suggested he found no humor in my words, nor my presence.

Me. Ow.

^V^

Diner had been simple, a lemon and garlic baked chicken, mashed sweet potatoes and long stem green beans in a lemon butter glaze. The egg timer still had another forty-five minutes for the chicken in the oven when Master Bruce had stepped through the service entrance. The wall clock put it just after four, an early night home to spend with his family.

"Good evening, Master Bruce," I had greeted him with a glass of ice water.

He nodded his thanks, drank down half of the glass then inquired, "Know where Selina is?"

"She and Miss Mattie were in the nursery, last I knew." I had watched as he drained the rest of the water and set it in the sink, showing no sign of any further conversation. That in itself had encouraged me in to ask, "Is everything all right, sir?"

"What?" he had glanced to me, then added, "Nothing… Has Tim been by today?"

"He and Miss Cassandra have been at the Clocktower for the day, I believe."

He had nodded, then said he was going upstairs.

"Very good, sir. Dinner will be at six."

Without another word, he had departed.

His mild distraction had disappeared by the time that he, Ms. Selina and their daughter settled at the dining room table. He had changed from his suit into a long sleeved Henley and a pair of dark jeans. From what I had seen, his smile was genuine and his attention was completely on Miss Mattie. Even though he had only been back in the cowl for less than four months, Master Bruce had done a remarkable job keeping the darkness form his work away from the light of his life.

The last I saw of him for the evening was just before eight. We had crossed paths while I had been on my way to the laundry room and he to the study. I had asked if Ms. Selina required any assistance with Miss Mattie 's bath and he had paused before replying, "She's still in the den actually, I would check in with her."

"I shall, sir."

He had turned to leave but stopped himself, "Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

Unexpectedly, a look of doubt came over his face, "Am I… am I not doing enough? For her?"

"For your birdie to be or your child?"

"Both," he had replied without hesitation.

"Evading bath duties is hardly a cause for concern, sir."

After shaking his head, he had countered, "It's not that... I just.. I don't want her to resent me."

"Ms. Selina knows who you are and in spite of it, loves you still. And Miss Mattie is far from her teenaged years, her resentment towards you is much further down the road."

He had smirked at that, then walked away.

I had then sought out my remaining charges, who had both been on the plush carpet of the den, walking about on their hands and knees. I had smirked from the entranceway as Miss Mattie latched onto the edge of the end table and pulled herself up to her feet. Ms. Selina instinctually rose to kneel, beckoning her daughter to walk towards her. After a little giggle, the child had toddled over and into her mother's embrace.

Over the last week, the child had suddenly taken to walking with much greater confidence than she had before. Master Dick had visited the previous weekend, spending nearly an hour walking up and down the main corridor with his young sister by his side. Eventually, he had turned it into a game of tag, urging Miss Mattie to catch him. Since then, if the child wanted something, she was comfortable enough to go and get it.

I had offered to aide in bathing the child, but Ms. Selina politely declined. After observing them play for a moment longer, I had carried on to the laundry room, fetching and folding the last load of the day. Distributing the clean towels and putting the fresh linens away, I had proceeded to my quarters for a spell, making a phone call to Leslie. Thankfully, she had just arrived home and was more than willing to take the time to decompress and tell me about her day.

By the time I made it back to the third floor to check in on Ms. Selina, she had found something to ask of me.

"Alfred… would you mind keeping an eye on Mattie for the night?"

I hadn't hesitated in accepting the task, but there was no denying that suspicions were quick to form in my aged mind.

With the child already nestled in her crib, I proceeded to carry the baby monitor with me as I toured the ground floor. To distract myself from developing various scenarios requiring Ms. Selina to take off unannounced for the night, I tidied up the den, collected sparse toys and put them in the oak chest set behind one of the couches. Rather than muse on the fact that she had taken an untraceable vehicle from the Cave as opposed to any one of the cars in the garage, I went about dimming lights in the corridors and drawing drapes closed.

It is none of your business, old man, I reminded myself.

I made the trek back upstairs to visually inspect that my youngest charge was blissfully asleep before taking the elevator to the Cave. After a quick going over in the medical bay to see that all was stocked and ready. It was ten after midnight when I navigated to the computer bay, sighing before taking a seat before the great console.

A few taps on the keyboard brought up windows monitoring scanner activity, police dispatch as well as the news reports. After a few moments of studying each, I found that there appeared to be no reports of great concern. My activity on the computer had resulted in a fourth window opening on the screen, quickly revealing Ms. Barbara's face.

"What are you up to?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, just ritual cleaning.. Empty out the recycle bin and what have you."

She adjusted the headset so that it would better tame her loose bangs of auburn, "Funny."

"A joke is a very serious thing," I stated, "According to Churchill."

Ms. Barbara asked, "Well, it was looking to be a crazy night… Victor Fries went off of the grid but Tim and Cass ended up running into him… guess he was just doing some research at the university library... Had paid the clerk off to not let anyone know he was in the basement."

"I take it that the matter is settled then?"

She nodded, "He was a bit feisty with Tim and Cass but they managed to settle things. Bruce dropped by to smooth things over… and remind Fries to stay in line."

After a moment of consideration, I proceeded to inquire, "And how is Ms. Selina fairing?"

The look of surprise and brief second of stammering suggested she was well aware of what I was asking. I decided to ease her worry by adding, "Do not fret… I will keep it under wraps, so to speak."

Biting her lip, she shook her head. Then, "Well, so far she has managed to evade Bruce. I had no idea she was even planning on going out tonight… or ever, for that matter."

"It's for her own good that the cat purrs…" I quoted.

"Churchill?"

"Irish proverb," I answered, "And, if one might say so, Ms. Selina is well overdue."

"That she is… well, hopefully she can make it home before he finds out… that is not an argument I want to be any part of."

Closing the connection, I thought that if there was a disagreement on the matter between lord and lady, I would no doubt find myself right I the middle of it. First and foremost to diffuse any ill thoughts Master Bruce may instinctually defer to and also to defend Ms. Selina's actions. Ideally, he would accept her decision and empathize with the fact that he had finally returned to his former guise and would not act the hypocrite to deny her the same chance. Less then perfect, they would agree to disagree on the matter, requiring a heated discussion that would result in a stalemate.

Or, mayhaps it was best she avoid any confrontation whatsoever using her cunning stealth…

Waiting for the outcome in the Cave would have been torturous.

Instead, I ascended the granite steps to the study, selected The Stranger from the third shelf of the bookcase and settled into one of the leather arm chairs.

Having read the book many times, I skipped forward to the second part, quickly losing myself to the heated trial of Mersault. I set the baby monitor on the arm of the chair an settle din for what I presumed to be a long wait. Doing my best to work through the verbose text, I found my attention fading, drawing my eyes to the grandfather clock. Every minute that passed, my mind wanted to focus more on presumptions and wonderments as opposed to the pages before me.

When the clock struck one, it chimed softly. A moment later, the large wooden piece moved on hidden hinges, pivoting open near soundlessly. Then again, eve if it had squeaked or creaked or grinded, it would have been completely unnoticeable over the shouting and growling and swearing.

Loud, angry and frustrated tones in both the masculine and feminine form filled the study long before the forms they belonged to appeared. Setting the book down, I stood, feet spread and my hands linked behind my back. A soldier's stance.

"Just stop for a second!"

"Grab my arm again and I'll-!"

As they stormed into the den, red-faced and eyes glowing with anger, I greeted them with a resounding, "Ahem!"

^V^

Catching her on the rooftop, Selina had approached me with a sly smile, tracing the contours of my body armor with her claws. She had tried to play it off as a game, as the dance we once shared so long ago, licking her lips before offering a teasing smile. Putting a sultry tone on, she had asked, "Is that a batarang in your pocket or are you just happy to-."

"What the hell are you doing?" I had cut her off.

She had interpreted my brashness as a result of anger when in all honesty, it had been out of fear. I had found myself looking through the leather and the mask, seeing the woman I had just shared dinner with. The woman who shared my bed. The mother of my child. I still had gunpowder in my nose after dueling with a few rotten eggs in the East End.

I thought to myself that even through the acrid scent, I could still smell her perfume…

Evading my reach, she had flipped away from me and off of the building, soaring through the air long before she tossed out her whip for an anchor. I had immediately taken after her, shocked that countless memories of our decade long game of cat-and-mouse didn't surface. Instead, I had cringed when her whip latched on to structurally poor fire escapes or flag poles. I had sworn under my breath when she landed on the roof of a moving taxi cab and then raced off down and alleyway.

Ignoring my own actions, I had been completely absorbed with every move she made, not out of awe, but worry.

Reaching Cole Park's entrance several blocks away, I finally caught up with her, getting in close enough to latch onto her upper arm. A lifetime ago, she would have spun around, raking her claws over my face or kneeing me in the stomach. In place of an defensive move, she simply pressed herself against me, locking her lips on mine.

Pushing her away, I snarled, "I'm not going to ask again."

"Ask what?" she smirked.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not breaking the law… am I?" As I continued to glare at her, the excited look on her face began to ebb, paving the way for her brow to lower with anger and lips to tighten with disgust.

Even though I had ruined her secretive plans, she agreed to ride back to the Cave with me, but that was the last word she uttered. The entire way back, the mere foot of open space between us filled with thick tension. As we passed through the secluded entrance of the Cave, I spoke as evenly and calmly as possible, "Is it the first time you've done this?"

Arms crossed over her chest and eyes glued straight ahead, she remained silent and stoic.

"Selina?"

"I heard you." When I pressed her to answer, she snapped, "None of your business."

"None of my business?" I growled at her, my hold on the steering wheel tightening to a death grip, "How is it not?"

"I don't interrogate you every time you put on a mask, why should I have to?"

"Because you have no reason to put on a mask."

Her fierce gaze snapped to me. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I meant."

"I do… and that doesn't make it any better," her tone was as rabid as mine.

Pulling up to the garage tier, I slammed on the breaks and turned to face her, "Damnit, Selina… this isn't a game." When she moved to step out of the car, I grabbed her arm to still her, "Wait-."

Her solid right hook to my chin was enough to not allow for her escape but also to shut me up.

In one movement, I leapt from the car, ripped back my mask and chased after her. By the time I was within an arm's reach, I opted not to make physical contact again, but to grab her attention in a verbal manner. "Selina, please-."

She stopped suddenly, turning to face me, "Now the manners come out." Selina pulled her cowl back, letting her hair loose while revealing the full extent of her anger. "I have never asked anything from you, Bruce… but I am asking you now… don't. Just let it go."

"Let it go… Selina, I have enough to worry about at night… I don't want to have to worry about you as well."

"What's there to worry about, Bruce?" she snapped, "I've been doing this just as long as you… And unlike you, I have every single one of my nine lives intact!"

"Listen to me-."

"No," she shook her head, stepped forward and jabbed a finger into the middle of my chest, "Listen to yourself. Trying to tell me what to do… You would think that after all of these years you would know better!" She then about-faced, continuing to storm towards the stairs.

"I'm not trying to control you, I'm trying to reason with you!" I barked before pursuing her.

"Well, that's a relief, Bruce," she started jogging up the stairs, "Obviously, I am the unreasonable one…"

"Just stop for a second!" I dared to reach for her once more as we arrived at the top of the stairs, the sensors opening the entrance ahead of us.

"Grab my arm again and I'll-!"

We stopped dead in our tracks to see Alfred standing in the study, not even the least bit surprised to find us in the midst of a feud. Calmly, he said, "I would ask that you both lower your voices. At this volume, you will surely wake Miss Mattie."

Instead of complying, I demanded, "Did you know about this?"

"I didn't tell him, I didn't tell anyone," Selina defended him.

My eyes fell back to her, "You weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

"Guess we'll never know," she shrugged.

Alfred cleared his throat and when I looked to him, I found his words echoing in my mind.

… _I don't want her to resent me…_

… _Ms. Selina knows who you are and in spite of it, loves you still…_

As I sighed in defeat, Alfred quietly excused himself, claiming he was retiring for the evening. I was surprised that he had been so quick to leave, not wanting to referee or at least badger some sense into me. In the few spats we had endured in the last few months, he had always offered his sage wisdom and occasionally sympathy.

Alone, the tension was still brewing between us, but there was a chance for me to tell her why I was so upset. I was capable of doing the right thing, of telling her the truth. I had to.

Letting the anger dissolve in order for the worry to surface, I asked, "Why? Why now?"

She seemed to be surprised by the sudden change in not only my voice but body language. As a result, Selina seemed to relax herself, if only a fraction, "Because I wanted to. There's no great, elaborate answer, Bruce. I just… I wanted to."

"Selina," I paused to step closer to her, "I know I risk everything each night, just as I did before. I returned to that life not because I wanted to, but because I had to, Gotham needs me."

When she didn't reply, I continued, "If something ever happened to me… I don't want Mattie to grow up alone… if something happened to you, too."

"I know, Bruce... But you don't know what it's like… Day in and day out… seeing everyone back in that life, everyone but me… I love what we have and I wouldn't trade it for the world but-."

I looked down as I shifted my weight, "I do."

"Excuse me?"

"I know what it's like, I know how hard it is… It's miserable, feeling restless, useless…" I paused before adding, "And I know what wearing that mask means to you, don't think I that I don't."

"Then why are you so angry with me?"

"I'm not angry, Selina," I shook my head reaching out to hold her hand with mine, "Seeing you in that element again after so long… It scared me. I was worried about you, even though I knew deep down that you were capable of handling of anything. I was forgoing my own safety, looking out for you, making sure each line you threw was secure or that there wasn't a stray cab that would have clipped you… Ready to do anything to keep you-."

"From getting hurt," she squeezed my hand gently before adding, "What about keeping me from being unhappy?"

There was a log paused before I replied, "Not getting their way, doing what they want… that makes cats unhappy. I have the scars to prove it."

She nodded, "That it does," stopping while she raked her fingertips over my left pectoral, "And that you do."

"I won't tell you what to do," I turned my voice back to business, "But at the same time, I won't let you put yourself in harm's way. If you go out again… let me know."

Standing up on her toes, she kissed my cheek, "It's a date."

^V^


	10. Life Is Good: X

Title: Life Is Good: X

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Set three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified from its original version.

^V^

"This is taking forever," Dick griped as he stared out over the crowded men's wear section, his eyes seemingly looking for the means to escape.

Rather than fight the hoards in the malls or those bombarding Fifth Ave and Madison, we had trekked just north of Bristol to the shopping outlets to wrap up our Christmas last minute shopping. Even still, the various stores were bustling with activity, but at least I didn't have to worry about navigating the streets in a wheelchair.

Laying the sweater I was looking at for my father across my lap, I glared at Dick, "We are almost done… and by we I mean me."

After breakfast at the Clocktower, we had headed out just after nine that morning. As per usual, I had completed most of my shopping over the summer and fall, leaving only a few final touches for the Family. Three diligent hours of shopping later, I had completed the supplemental shopping efforts. Dick's ritual had resorted heavily on calling stores Christmas Eve to see how late they would be open.

As I was picking out the last gift for my father, Dick had managed only to pick out a marble rolling pin for Alfred.

A rolling pin.

I began to re-fold the sweater, "Dick, you really should focus all of this energy you're putting into complaining into getting your shopping done."

"Babs, come on, why can't I hire one of those, you know," he paused then spoke softer, "Personal shoppers."

"You mean Alfred?"

"No, no," he shook his head before defending himself, "I haven't made him buy gifts for me since… last Christmas."

After suppressing a smile, I reached out and touched his arm, "Dick, you don't want to end up like Bruce when you get older, right?"

"Right," he replied with a cautious look on his face.

"So that means you need to do things on your own, not rely on others quite as much."

"But Bruce is the ideal isolationist. He doesn't depend on anybody."

I put the sweater back on the shelf and selected another of a different cut, "Au contraire. Alfred has always taken care of gift shopping for Bruce… and feeding. Cleaning. Suturing… Babysitting, housecleaning, ironing…."

Dick frowned, but then smiled briefly, "But Babs, have you seen a Pennyworth starched collar? It is in a class of its own."

Allowing him a slight victory, I held the sweater up to him, aiming it at his torso, "Think Dad would like it?"

He touched the material gently, "I somehow think that this intricate mesh of hunter, navy and sand just won't do his form justice."

"Agreed, he looks good in dark blue though. Grab me that one on the third shelf."

After a few more rounds through the men's wear, I found a nice dress shirt for Dad, and a new scarf since his ratty old one hardly qualified as a defense against any Gotham winter. While I waited in line with my bounties, Dick excused himself in order to make one last tour, also to find something to do other than fidget beside me. I watched from afar as he thumbed through a tie rack and began grinning foolishly.

When he returned, I asked, "What did you find?"

Dick slowly unfolded his selection and my face lit up as well.

A black silk tie was highlighted with several yellow Bat insignias and a tag claiming them to glow-in-the-dark. I shook my head, "Don't even think it, he will kill you."

"They have Superman one's too. Maybe he'd like that one better." As I shook my head at him, Dick held it up to his own chest, "Maybe I'll get it for myself."

"Where would you wear it, Dick?"

His grin turned mischievous, "Christmas dinner?"

Making our way to and from the cashier, we then back tracked through the store and out to the parking lot. Just after noon and there was nary a parking spot in sight. Leaving me in the warmth of the atrium, Dick gallantly took the paper shopping bags and said, "I'll bring the car around."

I took the spare minutes alone to check my phone, not surprised to see a text from Selina asking if we still planned on meeting them for lunch. She and Bruce were also out and about for the day, leaving us to make plans to meet up just before one in the afternoon. Dick had not been particularly keen on spending his day off shopping, but the fact that I had promised a tasty lunch had helped lure him out of bed.

Especially lunch at the Hudson Grille, where he always rejoiced in ordering their spinach salad just for the deep-fried goat cheese puffs that came with it.

Selecting her name on the display of my phone, I listened to it ring twice before she greeted, "Hello there."

"Hey, we're just about done over at the outlets, we're going to head over now."

"Perfect, we were just on our way, too. You will not believe the amount of adorable toddler winter hats I now have in my possession."

Her first Christmas, Mattie Elizabeth Wayne would be buried under gifts from the Family, both close and extended. My father had asked what size clothes she wore, but after I had told him that she was growing so fast, he decided to get her a giant stuffed Pegasus and a few story books. Dick and I had gone a similar route with a large basket full of books, a magnetized building block toy set along with ten pairs of socks.

At the rate that Mattie took them off and lost them, there was a need to keep the sock drawer as full as possible.

With the Range Rover approaching, I made my way out into the cold, "All right then, we will see you in a few."

She responded with, "And with the boys as DD, we are having Christmastinis."

I was snickering to myself as Dick parked at the curb, stepping out to open the door for me. As I pulled myself out of the chair and into the car, he asked, "Who was that?"

"You're future step-mother."

He visibly shuddered, "Please don't call her that… just say… future reformed criminal that married my wayward mentor-turned adopted father."

I waited silently as he shut my door, stowed the chair in the back and settled into the driver's side, then remarked, "That makes it sound as if she isn't reformed yet."

Grin returning to his face, "Well, after her little excursion the other week…" The look on mine had him adding, "What, too soon to joke about that?"

Shrugging, I replied, "No… laugh it up… but get it out of your system in the next fifteen minutes."

Not two weeks earlier, Selina had donned her neglected guise and trekked into the city for a night of prowling. In her mind, it had just been for the sake of stretching her legs and doing what she once loved if only for one night. Unfortunately, she had ended up aiding Batgirl and Robin in apprehending a parole officer-evading Victor Fries. Granted, it had been without being harmed but upon being tracked down by Bruce, it hadn't mattered in his eyes.

All that had was the fact that they were both out at night in masks while their daughter was home alone with Alfred.

The feud that had taken place that night had been quite heated. The morning after, I had instinctually driven up to make sure things were okay and to also act as a voice of reason, if needed. Expecting them to still be roaring at one another, I had been surprised to find them enjoying each other's company in the den as Mattie chased after the cat. When Bruce had taken the baby to wash up and change for the day, I had asked Selina if everything was okay or if they were just in an intermission.

She had sighed before explaining, "He wasn't mad… it seemed like it at first but… honestly, he was just scared. Scared that something would happen to me and he wouldn't be able to save me… or that something would happen to both of us and leave Mattie alone…"

I had blurted out my next question without thinking, "Are you going to do it again?"

"Not that I need his permission, but he said he wouldn't stop me."

"So that's a yes?"

Selina had shrugged, "I don't know… The look in his eyes last night… Was so… scared…. Worried. I'm not sure I want to see it ever again."

There had been no further sightings of Catwoman in the nights that followed.

Cats longed to stray, to hunt, to peruse their territory, but they always knew home was there waiting for them, safe and sound.

^V^

"They're late," I sighed as I traced the rim of my water glass for the millionth time.

Selina looked at me with a warm smile, leaned in and kissed my cheek. Simultaneously, her hand snaked under the table cloth and jabbed me in the abdomen. Rather than growl back, I offered her a smirk before taking her hand into mine.

"They're not late," she finally said, "Barbara just called… they are on the way."

I sat back in my chair and nodded slightly. After spending the morning perusing stores in and around Bristol, we had the town car's back seat and trunk full of gifts for family members and for donations. The Wayne Foundation party was on Christmas Eve. As per usual, it was being held at the ball room of the Ritz with an open bar and donations required at the door, physical or monetary.

The previous year, Bruce Wayne had not been able to attend as he had been on a beach in Fiji. In reality, I had been laying beside Selina in the den, my hand gently resting on her swollen abdomen…

In the last few months, I had managed to attend several social events unscathed. With Selina on my arm, we had braved the mayor's daughter's wedding, the annual police benefit as well as a number of Wayne Foundation dinners. Smiles and handshakes, dodging reporters and hunting down board members, it had been a routine I had mastered long ago. With her at my side, it was far easier to tolerate.

Even still, I preferred a night on the den carpet with Mattie as opposed to the ballroom's dance floor.

"Bruce?"

"Hmm?" I responded, my eyes focusing on Selina once more.

She nodded in the opposite direction, drawing my gaze to our waiter, a slender man in his thirties who acted as if his occupation was a punishment. He had visited us twice to refill our water glasses and I quire about drink orders or hors d'oeurves. I shook my head, but Selina finally obliged him, "I guess we'll have the lemon-lime gravlax while we're waiting."

"An excellent choice, and to drink?" he gently persisted "Might I suggest the pear and cranberry bellini?"

"Sure," she replied.

When he asked if I desired anything other than ice water, I wanted to reply no, longing only for three glasses of water to hydrate myself. Knowing that no wasn't the answer the waiter wanted, I appeased him with, "Something local that's on tap."

"We have a hearty winter lager crafted just outside of-."

"Perfect," I gave him look and he nodded before leaving us.

"Easy there, Scrooge, we haven't made our food orders yet… hate for you have spit on your halibut." Before I could say that I wasn't getting the halibut, she pointed out, "Ah, look who's here."

Dick and Barbara were making their way through the restaurant, a task given the number of patrons who had decided to take a break from their last minute holiday shopping. He offered a curt wave and Selina smiled back, encouraging me to do the same by gripping my knee cap under the table with her nails. When she had proposed a day out together, I had done my best to get out of it by claiming I had work to catch up on in the Cave. When that had failed, I pretended that a stab wound from the week before was bothering my lower back.

Lastly, I had tried to bribe Alfred into needing the day off so that we would have to stay home with Mattie.

Selina had seen through all of my excuses with a Cheshire grin.

The last two weeks had been difficult, to say the least. Her one night out as Catwoman had started a troubling ripple that impacted much further than I would ever let on. She had not made a second attempt to date, but that had not stopped me from looking for her over my shoulder. The stab wound I had suffered was a momentary lapse in judgment, a result of mistaking Batgirl for Catwoman. Fourteen internal and eleven external stitches had been nearly as painful as imagining her in the midst of a brawl with the Blu Flu gang.

That night, she had pointed out to me that if she ever put her mask on again, it would be to lure me into a chase, not onto a gurney.

Dick moved a chair out of the way, allowing Barbara to sit beside Selina. Their sudden proximity to one another had spurned an immediate conversation about their shopping conquests. Completely ignoring myself and Dick, they only paused when the waiter arrived so that the new arrivals could place drink orders. When he departed, Dick finally looked to me and smirked.

I sighed, "Are you staying in the city tonight?"

He shrugged, "From the looks of it. Supposed to get a few inches later, not entirely too keen on driving back home through it… Besides, I think I am on wrapping duty once we get back to the Clocktower."

"And dinner," Barbara reminded him.

"And dinner duty," he shadowed softly. The drinks arrived, Barbara having opted to follow in her female ally's footsteps where Dick had settled with coffee. The plate of gravlax also was placed on the table, along with a basket of freshly baked white, rye and pumpernickel rolls. The gentleman standing at our table seemed disappointed that we had only been a party of four instead of a larger group, thus cheating him out of an automatic twenty percent gratuity.

He was further disheartened when we ordered light meals. Selina took the initiative and asked for the butternut squash ravioli, followed by Barbara ordering the smoked turkey and asiago pannini. Dick was the only one with an appetite, going for the spinach salad with fried goat cheese along with bistro ham and brie sandwich. When the man's gaze fell to me, I caught Selina smirking when I ordered, "I'll have the halibut, with the sautéed spinach."

Once we were alone again, I was surprised when Barbara asked, "So, how are things for the Christmas party?"

"So far everything seems to be in order," I replied before tasting the beer. I then continued, "They invited your father, along with two dozen randomly selected officers."

She smiled warmly, "He was telling me the other night… wanted to know if I would be his date… Unfortunately, someone else already asked me…"

"Snooze, you lose," Dick remarked before making a garb for the sole, brown roll.

"At any rate," Barbara continued, "He was very thankful for the invite… to that and to the house."

"He's Family now," I commented, "Really always has been."

There was a brief pause before Selina turned the conversation to the things we had picked out for Mattie that morning. It had been the only part of the holiday shopping process over the last few months that I had actually showed interest instead of feigning it. Earlier in the day, Selina had to literally drag me from the toy store after I had spent far too much on stuffed animals, clothes and books.

It was her first Christmas and it was going to set the standard.

To continue with our recently made tradition, Christmas was being held at the Manor. Brunch in the morning, gifts midday and Alfred's culinary feats for dinner. Unlike the previous year, Tim would also be in attendance as Jack and Dana were spending the holiday in Ohio visiting relatives. He had been invited along but opted to be with his other Family.

"Bruce?"

I turned to see Barbara smiling at me, "Yes?"

"What time did you want us to come up after the party?"

"After the party… on Thursday night?" I asked.

Dick nodded, "Yeah, we figured it would make more sense to do it like last year, come up the night before and then we'll all be there in the morning, no problem." He finished his roll, grabbed for one of the thinly sliced pieces of ornamented salmon and proceeded to pop into his mouth.

Barbara hesitated before asking, "Is that not okay? We can come up in the morning…"

Selina reached for my hand and squeezed it, speaking on my behalf, "No that's a great idea. We can watch Christmas movies, decorate the tree some more. It will be fun."

Dick grinned at me, the way he used to as Robin after he had brought down a thug on his own even though I had told him no to.

Instead of scowling, I nodded, "I'll have Alfred prepare the guest rooms."

Selina let go of my hand, the imprints of her fingers and nails lingering for a second more on my flesh. Before she tasted the kravlax, I felt her feet move to rest on top of mine. At that small token of affection, I decided that Ebeneezer Scrooge could remain at bay, at least for the remainder of lunch.

^V^

Just after two, we bid Dick and Barbara good bye in order to head home. Using his boundless charm, Alfred should have just put her down for her nap, allowing us to unload the car and prepare presents in peace. No doubt Bruce would willingly help in carrying in bags and boxes, but wrapping and tying bows would most likely be left to myself and Alfred…

Before stepping out of the restaurant, Bruce helped me into my wool coat before donning his leather jacket. I tied my scarf while watching him zip up, waiting until he was searching his pockets for a pair of gloves before leaning in to kiss his cheek. Three glasses of the Prosecco based drink had my skin feeling warm long before I had put my coat on. It also had me teasing Bruce under the table, tracing my toe over his feet and up and down his shins.

"How dare you, madam?" he whispered as I stepped away. He opened the door for me and guided me through with his hand on the small of my back. Once outside in the brisk cold, I leaned into him, smiling when his had finally decided to slip an arm around my waist.

"Good thing we picked the Beemer…" I shivered slightly, "Thank you for car starters…"

He took the driver's seat, waiting for me to get in before re-starting the car. Bruce had activated the remote control ten minutes earlier, giving ample time for the heat build up and for the windows to defrost. As I buckled up, I caught Bruce checking his PDA, a frown forming on his lips.

"Anything good?"

"Coroner reports… double homicide from last night," he answered mechanically.

"Ah," I said quietly.

He took five minutes to skim the documents on the small digital screen before pocketing the device. At that, he put a smile on and asked, "Ready?"

"Yep."

The last snow fall had been a week earlier, not more than three inches in most of the city, maybe four in the suburbs. Bristol had missed most of the precipitation, leaving bits of earth breaking through the white covering. I was by no means an avid fan of wintry weather, but there had yet to be a significant amount for Mattie to play in. More specifically, for Mattie to put her tiny purple snow suit to use in.

Looking skyward for most of the ride home, it seemed as if there was one giant white cloud that was lingering above us. The weather advisory was already in effect, with the first flakes due later in the afternoon. Thankfully, Bristol was calling for up to six inches at the least.

Bruce drove right into the garage, braked softly and cut the engine without effort. When he remained motionless, I asked what was wrong. With a sigh, he looked to me and said, "I'm debating whether or not to get the backhoe out of the utility garage… to move all of the shopping bags."

"Oh, don't worry, hon," I reached into the back seat and grabbed a small white paper bag, "I'll help."

Somehow, we found a way to take everything inside with just one trip. I took the bags while Bruce stacked up the wrapped boxes and heavier items. Leading the way, I guided him into the house verbally, doing my best not to force him to falter. Disregarding the stairs, we made our way to the elevator, of which forced me to press the up button with the heel of my right shoe.

Arriving at the second floor, Bruce had to set his bounty down in order to unlock a spare bedroom door. It was a secure room he had designed to offer secure shelter for his colleagues or even possible suspects that needed to be kept hidden from the world. When I had first come upon it the year before, Dick had said that they had never used it and most likely never would.

At least not for its intended purpose.

Thankfully, most of the gifts were already wrapped and ready. Setting everything on the bare mattress, I quickly grouped the boxes and bags based on who they were for. The donation gifts would have to go back downstairs for the Wayne Foundation party at some point, but the remaining presents needed a safe place to stay until Friday morning. I turned to ask him if he was ready to go downstairs to find Alfred and Mattie only to find the room empty.

"Bruce?"

"In here," he called out from the attached bathroom. I crossed the room and paused at the open doorway, finding Bruce holding his shirt up in order to examine dark, yellow and brown bruising on his side. It had been a while since he had found himself on the gurney in the Cave, or at least to Alfred's medical mercy. Ufortunatley, the locatio of the stab wound had forced him to call for aide and when he had woken Alfred, Alfred had roused me.

We had found him that night partially dressed on the gurney with a split lip, handful of contusions and a three inch deep wound to his lower back.

"Hate to see the other guy," I had joked.

Spotting me, he dropped the shirt and tucked it back into his slacks. Bruce turned to look at me, offering a small smirk before he said, "Sorry."

I waited until he moved to stand beside me before responding, "It's okay.. Ready to go find the munchkin?"

"Actually, I am going to-," he stopped mid-sentence as I jammed my fingernails directly into the tender flesh on his side. He tried to glare down at me, but eventually surrendered with, "Lead the way."

Taking the stairwell back to the ground floor, we followed the sound of fait Christmas music to its source in the kitchen. Mattie was seated in her high chair while Alfred helmed a vast cookie and dessert orchestra. Cooling trays on the counters yielded gingerbread snaps, sugar cookies in a variety of festive shapes, cream puffs with powdered sugar and even miniature canolis just begging to be devoured.

"weren't we busy…" I said while stepping through the open archway.

Mattie looked up at me, slapping her hands down on the tray before her, accidentally beheading a sugar cookie Santa Claus, "Mah-mie!"

"Hi sweetie," I crossed the room, kissed the crown of her black curls, "Have you been helping or hindering?"

Alfred was quick to report, "She has been the very definition of a good helper… taste testing diligently to see to it that the old Pennyworth recipes are up to par."

Before I could respond, Mattie spotted her father and called out, "Dah-ie!"

"I see you, kitten," he replied before joining me, opting to take her out of the high chair when she started to ask Uppie. He held her high above and asked her, "Did you fall into the batter?"

She reached down to him and replied, "Dah-ie, umber dere!"

I smiled as I observed the flour that covered her face and arms and the smears of frosting on her lips and on her shirt. It would be quite the chore cleaning her up. A chore for Bruce while I wrapped presents…

Mattie giggled and I looked to see that Bruce had lowered her so she could rest against his chest. Closer to her father, she had showed no hesitation in putting a smidgen of flour on Bruce's ace. He smiled lightly and proceeded to wipe it on her shirtsleeve, causing her to fidget and laugh even louder.

"Why don't you go get her washed up, Bruce? I'll tackles presents."

He looked down at Mattie, who had begun to pick flour off of her shirt and put even more on Bruce's face and dark sweater. "Looks like we both need to… would you like a bath, kitten?"

"Baf! Duppie!" she jumped a bit in his arms, growing louder and more excited as he carried her away.

Just shy of year into the role of father and he was already the best.

No, that wasn't entirely true… he had been a father for years. And he always was the best at whatever he did.

^V^

Thankfully, I had only been required to wear my tuxedo at the Wayne Foundation party for just shy of an hour.

A structure fire in an apartment building just out of Midtown had fire fighters at a loss as to how to safely evacuate those trapped too high for their ladders to reach. Barbara had quietly lured me out of hearing range of the social brigade before informing me of what was going on. I had grinned at the opportunity to change out of Armani and into Kevlar, not even waiting for her to notify Tim, Cass and Bruce before dashing.

Regrettably, Bruce had been unable to leave the clutch of the board, a fact that had no doubt completely ruined his Christmas Eve.

Between the three of us, we had been able to grapple up and use zip lines to efficiently and safely remove fourteen tenants from the upper floors of the burning residence. After leaving those that were in good shape on the roof of the adjacent building and taking those in need of medical attention directly to the ground, we retreated as quickly as we had arrived. Since we all stank of smoke and had ash embedded into any exposed skin, we were unable to return the party.

Ah, shucks.

Resting on the St. Michael's cathedral, I had called Barbara to let her know all was well and that we were just going to go ahead with patrols. I asked how Bruce had been and she replied, "He's literally pouting, Dick… It's actually pretty funny."

He had suffered through another hour an a half of playing the gracious board president before joining us on the rooftops. I had been curious as to how fatherhood would affect his patrol work on the night before Christmas, but as expected, it hadn't. He still had worked mostly alone, working through the tougher parts of the city and showing no hesitation in letting those who had decided to be naughty to get an early lump on the head.

I had crossed paths with him shortly after three in the morning, finding him in the Bowery taking on a small army of hooligans armed with pipes, switchblades and brass knuckles. I dove in without hesitation, taking out two men with a glide kick before having to block and counterstrike my way into the thick of the fight. We had worked in unison, covering each others' backs, using the most blunt and powerful of blows on the heavy hitters and using quicker, more painful assaults for the more sinister of the thugs.

It had only taken three minutes to bring fourteen men to the frozen pavement.

I had looked over my shoulder at Batman and smirked, "Can't beat that kind of team work."

He had inhaled deeply, then grunted.

Returning to the Manor, I had opted to ride back with him in the Mobile. As a pre-emptive measure to abandoning the function early, he had brought it down on auto-pilot after dusk. I had a cycle hidden in a faux dumpster in Bryanttown but it was just a bit too chilly to be riding the bike all of the way back to Bristol. On the ride, he had me replay the events with the fire, seemingly pleased to hear we all had managed to emerge unscathed.

At that, I had remarked, "Pretty sad that we all would rather be running into as burning building than to sit through a fundraiser… really need to get that party popping next year. Hire the Rockettes or something."

He had ignored me and driven off of the main drag and onto the dirt service road that wrapped around the property of Wayne Manor. Following fresh tracks of snow through the secret entrance and onto the granite path, we had just been beat by Cass and Tim, both of which had opted to ride back on cycles. I waited until the Mobile was parked before saying, "Do you think Santa will mind if I eat his cookies?"

Glaring at me, Batman's eyes narrowed before he responded, "Yes, he will."

Jus as we approached the main tier on foot, Tim and Cass had been stepping out of the costume vault in fresh clothes. Tim had opted for dark sweat pants and a hooded Syracuse sweatshirt while Cass had donned black leggings and a dark gray long sleeved tee. Peeling off my mask, I had inquired as to how their evening had gone.

Tim had shrugged, "Not bad… you?"

"Can't complain… even managed to hitch hike home," I replied as Bruce bypassed us and headed straight for the computer bay.

We had watched as he took his seat, gloved fingertips immediately attacking the keyboard. Tim had joked softly, "Santa only comes when everyone is in bed."

"Well, there will be a two hour-window when he's asleep and the rest of us wake up," I had replied, "Santa better make his move then."

There had been no point in asking if he wanted or needed our help, so we had decided to trudge up the stairs and into the Manor. Before heading to bed, we had stopped in the den to check out the tree in all of its white lit glory. Selina and Mattie had helped Alfred decorate it two weeks earlier, Bruce stepping in to help put the star on. A few presents were already settled beneath the lowest branches, mainly items we had brought up earlier in the day.

I had already started feeling the anticipation for how different the tree would look in the morning.

Alfred had already set up guest rooms on the second floor, complete with plates of cookies on the night stands. Seeing how I had been sharing a room with Barbara, I had used extra caution in entering the room, eating the last of the treats and sneaking into the bed. Settling deep into the pillows, I had sighed quietly, the long day and even longer night finally catching up with me.

Come on visions of sugar plums…

Whether it was the excitement of the holiday or simply the desire to sneak downstairs and see if there were any canolis left over, I found myself waking at seven-thirty in the morning. Barbara was sound asleep beside me, her head barely visible from under the down comforter. I tried to will myself back into a state of unconsciousness but found it to be fruitless. As slowly as possible, I pushed back the covers and glided out of bed.

"Richard."

I looked back over to Barbara, uncertain as to whether or not she had said my name or if my conscience had said it for her.

When I proceeded to pull on a dark blue Henley shirt, I heard it again, in addition to, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Babs?"

The figure in bed rolled over, only her bright green eyes visible from the veil of blankets, "You heard me."

"I can't sleep… going to run down and get something to eat… I'll be right back."

"Right," she replied, eyes still focused on mine.

Although Barbara had every right to be suspicious, I honestly wanted nothing more than to sneak a few baked goods out of the kitchen without being caught by Alfred. And possibly to take a quick look in the den. And maybe to steal a candy cane or two.

The first leg of my trip downstairs was a bust.

Alfred was already well under way with his efforts in preparing breakfast. I barely set one foot onto the tiled floor of the kitchen before he greeted me, "Merry Christmas, Master Dick."

"You, too, Al… didn't think you would be at it already," I admitted defeat and took to sitting at the island counter.

"Ah, yes… well, in all honesty, I had a late start this morning."

"What, you didn't get up until five-thirty?" I joked.

"Ten after six, in fact… just in time to bid Master Bruce good night." There was a twinge of guilt that Bruce had worked alone in the Cave that long after we had gone to bed. Alfred continued before I could say anything, "Thankfully, it was just after I had roused and changed Miss Mattie… allowing him to take her with him."

After a few seconds of watching him dice potatoes into perfect, tiny cubes, I asked, "Guess he's not getting up for a while then."

He looked up and shook his head, "He is already up, sir. In the den, I believe."

At that, I decided to move onto my second intended stop. Sure enough, Bruce was sitting with Mattie at the base of the tree, of which was no longer visible from behind the stacks of gifts and wrapped boxes. I smirked from the doorway to see Mattie was carefully holding onto the stuffed black leopard Tim had picked out for her.

Just as Alfred had moments earlier, Bruce greeted me without looking up, "Morning, Dick."

"Do I get to open a gift, too?" I joked as I joined them on the carpet.

"I gave you a ride you a ride this morning despite the fact that you reeked of smoke… that was your gift."

We watched on as Mattie diligently tried to bring the cat to life, making him walk around on his padded feet and jumping in the air at invisible prey. At one point, she lifted the leopard up and made it kiss Bruce's face. He smirked as he reached a hand up to pet the pretend animal as if it were the actual black feline that live under his roof.

Since his return to the cowl, so much of his personality and mannerisms had reverted back to the way the once had been. There were times when it seemed as if nothing had changed at all, as if the previous year had just been a long, painful nightmare. The more he wore the cowl, the more of him it seemed to claim.

Yet, there were still moments, however brief, that I saw the man we had all come to know so well.

And sharing one of those moments with him once more was a Christmas miracle as far as I was concerned.

^V^


	11. Life Is Good: XI

Title: Life Is Good: XI

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

"What the hell did you do? Stand there and say 'Run me over, please'?"

I sat on the gurney, holding an ice pack to my right shoulder while Alfred secured a splint to my pointer and middle fingers of that arm's hand. Compress bandages were taped over several gashes on my abdomen, back and chest as well as a mass of gauze and tape was settled over a slice on my left calf muscle. There was the uneasy feeling in my stomach that suggested internal bruising and maybe even damage.

Getting hit by a Lincoln Navigator tended to leave a bit of a mark.

Selina stood next to Alfred, her bathrobe had come undone to reveal a black silk nightie. She had slipped on my loafers, which were beyond roomy for her size nine feet. Although it was nearing four in the morning, her hair was in perfect order, curled and fluffed in a manner she usually did for evening dinners in town. Even though I probably had a minor concussion, my vision was still pretty good and I could make out the soft touches of eye shadow and lipstick on her face. And of course I could never be in her presence without noticing her perfume...

All dressed up.

For us.

For our second anniversary.

Damn.

I had planned on a quiet night of patrols, had even asked Batgirl to cover additional property in her routine so I could ensure an early evening. Selina had planned a "one in the morning date" for us and had warned if I had been late by even one minute she would be drinking the champagne and eating the chocolate covered strawberries and I was welcome to sleep in the Cave for the next month.

I was late by two hours.

The night had been disrupted by a group of drug dealers that had holed up in an all night rental car facility north of 17th Avenue after being chased by police. There were four employees present and three customers. Good enough for a well rounded group of hostages. SWAT and Special Crimes had been called in as well as the veteran negotiator on the force. There seemed to be no escape for the group of frightened and trigger-happy men inside. The police felt they had everything in control and had even rationalized that the "leader" of the group wasn't of the "evil" type, merely the "scared when cornered" type.

That was until they executed a hostage.

Twenty-eight year old Veronica Blair had been thrown out of the second story window, riddled with bullets and stripped naked. She had swapped shifts for that night with another employee so she could spend the weekend with her boyfriend and his parents.

I had arrived just as police went into panic mode as so often occurs when a dead civilian, especially a dead hostage civilian, is thrown in their faces. I checked in with Gordon, who had also just arrived and then commanded that all attempts to communicate with the men inside were to be ended.

Within a half of an hour, the four drug dealers were unconscious, sporting fresh bruises and several broken ribs, bound by the hands and feet and also were thrown from the second story window. The hostages had been locked up in a small office and were at first frightened at my presence. Once they realized I wasn't the enemy, a wave of relief washed over them. The first to be ungagged called out that there was another "bad man" in the subterranean garage and he was going to escape if everything went bad.

Within two minutes I had made it to the garage and had begun to search the lot. The rev of an engine caught my attention and when I turned to look, a navy blue SUV was heading towards me, lights flashing. I dove out of the way and threw a Batarang at the driver. The windshield glass shattered and the car swerved to the right.

I rose quickly and chased after the vehicle, chancing a glance at the driver. When the SUV pulled a sudden 180, I realized he wasn't the fleeing type. He wasn't even the criminal type.

In the driver's seat was an older man in a wrinkled suit that was held at gunpoint by the passenger, a taller man who wore a dark leather coat and wool cap. When the vehicle was within fifty yards, the passenger aimed the gun at me and fired six consecutive shots, each of which whizzed by, missing by mere inches. Impressive, for a moving target being shot at from a moving vehicle.

With the gun now off of him, the hostage slammed on the brakes, causing the SUV to swerve wildly. Since he was not wearing his seat belt, the gun holder slammed into the passenger side window before flying over to the dashboard. I leapt to get out of the path of the vehicle, but in that split second, I saw the passenger reach for the wheel and jerk it towards himself, causing the vehicle to spin around and directly at me.

I leapt to avoid a majority of the blow and dug my fingers into the ski rack on the roof of the vehicle. Even still, I felt a few wet snaps in my side that turned breathing into an inferno of pain. As the SUV approached the garage door, I began to climb the roof in order to make my way to the front of the vehicle. The sensory-activated door began to rise, but not quickly enough. The car lurched forward with sudden acceleration and I felt the bite of metal scrape my back, even through the Kevlar and the cape.

Now on the main street, police barricades blocked both ends. Perhaps they didn't see me, or perhaps they didn't care, but the tactical force opened fire. The tires blew and the car decelerated quickly and began to turn to the left, towards the actual car rental building. I felt bullets clip my leg and body but felt no pain.

That was until the SUV slammed into the wall and sent me airborne. The passenger had been knocked unconscious by the crash and the driver was cradled in the air bag. I flipped over the roof and landed by the driver's door, shoulder first into the cement. I stood quickly, even though the feeling had gone from my arm, and attempted to open the door. It had been jammed shut and I was forced to break open the window. With a knife, I sliced the air bag and checked the vitals of the driver as the emergency crew rushed in behind the police.

And after all of the drama of the night, I returned home, limping, sore, bleeding, disoriented, swollen, scraped and exhausted to a woman that was not about to offer any sympathy. For I had ruined our anniversary dinner and for that I was going to Hell.

Before I could answer her ridiculous question, she continued, "Bruce, it's things like these that drive me nuts and you know it," she caught me staring at her nightie and proceeded to cinch her house coat around her, "Alfred, be sure to use alcohol on those wounds."

"Yes, Madam," he replied as he reached for his suture tray.

As he began work on the leg wound, I found my voice, "Selina, I tried my best, but things come up that I can't control."

"Still when they said hostage takers at the car joint, you should have..."

"What, send in Robin or Batgirl, they wouldn't have come out as nicely as I did, Selina," I growled as I motioned at my tattered form.

I saw the anger in her eyes soften as a trace of guilt rose in them. I looked down at Alfred's hands for a distraction. He was already finishing up and I hadn't felt a thing. After ten thousand stitches, the process had come to seem rather painless.

As he began to remove the soiled bandages on my abdomen, I felt rather than saw Selina sit beside me on the gurney. She sighed audibly and took the ice pack from me and placed it gently on the back of my shoulder. I kept my eyes on Alfred's fingers as he applied fresh bandages.

The quietness in the Cave was shocking, even the bats had taken to silence.

Alfred cleared his throat, "I'll return shortly, I'll have to fetch more suture material," he rose and walked briskly out of the medical bay and towards the storage area fifty yards away. I knew he kept a fully stocked inventory and supply right there in the bay. But Alfred always had a method to his madness.

Selina moved the ice pack to my bruised collarbone, "Still, Bruce, you should have showed more --- I don't know, discretion."

"Possibly," I murmured as the hot tissue of my shoulder cooled and relaxed.

I felt her free hand touch my forearm, perhaps one of the few unscathed places on my body. She traced an eight year-old scar and spoke, "And the police would have been able to handle it, I'm sure."

"Not to bash the boy's in blue, but their way ended with a dead hostage. My way ended with a trashed SUV."

"And a trashed body," she replied softly, her hand slipping down to embrace mine.

"Occupational hazard," I commented after squeezing her hand briefly.

As if he had sensed the decrease in tension, Alfred returned with a small basket of suture kits and sterilized bandages. He set them on a utility tray and seated himself on a stool. Eye level with my wounds, he worked his magic.

Things had been running smoothly, perhaps too smoothly. Mattie's birthday had been last month and had been celebrated with family and friends. Selina made me invite social acquaintances in order to seem polite. Mattie couldn't have cared less if the Kents came or if upper levels of Wayne Enterprise staff brought her balloons depicting Sponge Bob. All she cared was that there were lots of faces and she got to rip up paper and eat ice cream. What more could a child ask for?

In both aspects of my work, progress had been made as well. Business was booming, so to speak, and I had absorbed a three million dollar real estate firm in downtown Gotham. Not too shabby for a deal made over chicken parm at two in the morning with a man who had been putting off selling out for three decades.

Batman had also met success in his quest, with the average crime rate of the year dropping twenty-three percent. Although other cities didn't see it, it was an improvement for Gotham and that was all that mattered. All unaccounted for criminals were tucked away in Arkham or Blackgate and the only real threats were the drug lords, who had surprisingly taken to the lower ground and remained out of trouble for nearly two months.

Until that night, anyways.

But everything could change in the blink of an eye, something I had come to know all too well. There was no way to know when, only to be prepared for when it happened. The calm before the storm...

V

Once Alfred wrapped up Bruce's ribs and had applied bandages over the sutures, he gave his patient a dose of antibiotics and a tetanus booster. Bruce slipped off of the gurney, stretched his arms and the turned to face me. I sat for moment and then stepped off as well, taking hold of his proffered hand. Even with my back to him, I knew Alfred was smiling.

We walked up stairs slowly, Bruce cautiously taking the steps one at a time. I almost commented on how sore he was going to be the next day, but he suddenly fell and collapsed onto the stairway.

My scream pierced the hall and moments later Alfred was at my side, his face too serene for the event that just took place. I stammered how he had fainted and asked repeatedly what was wrong with him.

He patted Bruce's face a few times and helped him to his feet, but failed to respond to my questions. I followed, my hands on Bruce's back, trying to offer some support. Alfred guided him up the remaining stairs and then to our bedroom. I went in first, pulled down the blankets and helped him into bed. In the soft lamplight, Bruce's face was calm and sleepy, his lids heavy over his eyes. Alfred still remained silent as he pulled the covers about Bruce's now slumbering form.

He placed a hand on my elbow and ushered me a few feet away. I had never felt angry with Alfred, but at that moment, I wanted to pummel him, "What the hell is going on?"

"Selina, please, calm yourself. I mixed a sedative with Master Bruce's antibiotic injection. I had expected him to at least make it to bed before it would take its hold on him, but obviously he is more fatigued than I had anticipated."

"You doped him up?"

He nodded curtly, his face saying that he didn't find anything wrong with it.

I sighed, relieved it wasn't anything serious. My mind had been flooded with concern, fears and worries that his injuries had conflicted with those from the past, or at the very least that they were more severe than first thought.

"Will there be anything else?" Alfred asked suddenly.

I touched his arm gently and shook my head, "Thanks, Alfred."

"One does try to please," he commented briefly before leaving the room and shutting the doors very gently.

With my heart rate somewhat back to normal, I switched the lamp off and got into bed slowly, as to not wake Bruce. Even sedated he would most likely wake up with my luck. Once under the covers, I shimmied over to him and rested my head in the crook of his good shoulder. His breaths were light and soundless, and came in soothing rhythm. It didn't take long for me to succumb as well.

I woke the next morning, not to Alfred's presence nor the sound of the shower.

But of all things, to Frank Sinatra's voice singing "I've Got You Under My Skin."

After flipping back the covers, I sat up to see it was just seven in the morning. The stereo towards the west wall of the room was on and was in fact the origin of the light jazz that floated about the dawn-dark room. I was about to call out Bruce's name, but was distracted by a small white envelope on his pillow. In perfect calligraphy, it stated my name.

To hell with the myth, I never could bottle my curiosity.

Inside, was a small piece of heavy writing paper that was also filled with calligraphy. One of Bruce's many romantic qualities was his handwriting. As I scanned the words, I smiled at the beginnings of a romantic poem: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue...

I read the last part aloud, out of sheer confusion," 'Eggs, Milk, Coffee.' What the hell?"

I read it a few more times, not seeing any humor or romance in the words. Frustrated and confused as to what the note meant, I crumpled the paper and tossed it over the end of the bed. Isis, who had been sleeping on the floor, came to life suddenly and attacked the paper ball. "Kill it, honey, save me some time."

I rose and retrieved my robe from the floor. After donning it, I searched the room and the bathroom for Bruce. Instead, I found three more cards with my name on it: one on the couch by the window, one on top of the sink and another in my underwear drawer of the dresser.

All right, Bruce was strange, I knew that, but this was just plain weird.

Each card had its own bit of poetry or tidbit on it that further confused my coffee-deprived mind.

"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea. --- Robert A. Heinlein."

"There was an old bulldog named Caesar, who went for a cat just to tease her. But she spat and she spit, till the old bulldog quit. Now when poor Caesar sees her, he flees her. --- Unknown."

"In my experience, cats and beds seem to be a natural combination. --- Louis J. Camuti, DVM "

I sat on the edge of the bed and tore up the cards, letting the pieces fall on Isis. My anger was rising to a very unhealthy level. What was he trying to get at? Why couldn't he be normal and just say things at inappropriate times like normal guys? No, he had to be unique, a regular old individual that man was.

The door to the bedroom opened suddenly to Bruce, wearing his black robe over dark pajama pants and his bandages. In his less wounded arm, he balanced a tray of coffee, toast and sliced fruit. On his face he wore a smile of smugness.

As his eyes took in the confetti mess on the floor, his smile lessened slightly before he set the tray down on the bedside table and then sat himself next to me, "Didn't like my notes?"

"No, Bruce, I didn't like your notes. Hated them in fact."

He shrugged, "It was worth a try."

I stared at him briefly before asking, "What the hell is this all about?"

"What's what about?" he replied as he reached over and selected a piece of orange.

"The notes, the music," I took the fruit from his hand, "This?"

He took a breath, "Well, I was thinking last night, you know while Alfred sewed me back together," he waited for a slight nod on my part. One he never got. He continued, "Our first real date started two years ago yesterday at 8: 15 p.m. and ended two years ago from today at 12:45 in the morning. Therefore, that would make the entire day yesterday our anniversary, and then the entire day today as well, not just the first forty-five minutes. If we wanted to be technical it could be only yesterday, but I think it's more suitable if we expand it to both days. So if the whole day yesterday was lost and all of today is still our anniversary, it gives me," he glanced at his watch, "Sixteen hours and fifty-one minutes to make it up to you."

"Make what up?"

"Missing the first twenty-seven hours of our anniversary," he said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

I laughed quietly; Alfred may have slipped him a bit too much. My hand reached out and caressed his stubble-free face, "Bruce."

"Yes?"

"What time did you get up this morning?"

"Five-thirty."

I sighed and laid back onto the bed, my legs draped over the end, "That's about eight hours too soon, dear."

"No, I'm fine, really. I changed Mattie, fed her, even read her a book. I've arranged for Dick and Barbara to sit for her all day today, they'll be here at nine to pick her up." He picked up his coffee mug and sipped it carefully before setting it back on the tray. "And besides, the more I sit still, the sorer I'll be. And I have lunch all planned out, and then we're going to go to town for dinner and then to any play, musical, movie, whatever you want, I have tickets for every show tonight at nine. After, we can come back here and I already set up for patrol to be covered tonight so we won't miss a minute of the next," another glance at the watch, "Sixteen hours and forty-nine minutes."

He reclined beside me and I saw him wince twice during the process. He smiled briefly before leaning over and kissing me. After a moment I broke away and asked, "How long have you been planning this scheme of yours?"

He kissed my lips again and then moved along my jaw, my neck. Finally he answered, "Since five-thirty this morning."

V

We were at a red light on Hudson Drive, three miles away from the Bristol exit. I miraculously had the day off and had caught Barbara's phone call this morning in between returning from patrol and sleeping. She had sounded excited and had asked me to help sit for Mattie all day Saturday. My other option had been to do laundry or even worse, clean my apartment; so spending the day with my baby sister seemed like a better plan.

Barbara was in the passenger seat of her car, tapping away at her Palm Pilot. She had a whole schedule of things she wanted to do today, including taking the Wayne baby to some sort of toddler fun center in Neville. All right, a day with my baby sister in a fun house with sixty other screaming kids... Maybe laundry wouldn't have been that bad after all.

The light changed and we moved forward for a while. Traffic hadn't been bad so far, but I knew there was some construction on Route 36, the road that paved the way through Bristol. As we cruised the four-lane highway, I glanced out the window off and on. Even though March was around the corner, the weather had been unseasonably warm, with most of the year's twenty inches of snow long gone. Today's high was forty-five with a chance of showers this afternoon.

Whoopee.

I made the exit in good time and cleared my throat once we were on our way, "Barbara, did he say what's going on?"

She looked up, paused briefly and closed her mini-computer, "No, not really. Said he was spending the day with Selina. That he had some plans for the day." After a beat, she suggested, "It may have to do with the fact that he got the crap beat out of him last night."

My eyes widened, "What?"

"You didn't see it on the news?"

I shook my head, having not watched the morning news for nearly five years, more so because I was never awake at the time it aired.

"Some drug lords were cornered by the cops, held hostages at a car rental place. Cops tried to play nice, ended up with one dead hostage. Batman showed up, beat up the baddies inside, then found one that was trying to get away. From the way he described it, it was nothing, but Dad said he looked half dead by the end of it."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

I drew a breath slowly, "He's all right, though. Right?"

"Yeah, sounded fine to me. Said a few stitches and ice packs, he'll be good as new."

"Then what's this about him needing cover for patrol?"

She shrugged, "Maybe he wants to take a night off, to rest."

I snorted, "This is Bruce, we're talking about. He doesn't rest after getting banged up. He gets even."

She smiled and nodded, "True, but it's also their…" she bit her lip and faced her window.

"It's 'their' what?"

"Nothing. Their alone time," she replied, "They need to figure stuff out, for the wedding."

"Right," I grinned, "But what is it really, Ms. Gordon?"

"It's nothing," she commented, her voice trying to come off as stern, but it wavered ever so slightly.

"Oh, come on, you can't keep secrets, that's not fair."

She was quiet for another minute. I decided if she was going to be childish, that gave me the right to do so as well.

"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please---" I whined.

"All right!" she called out, "Just stop that," she laughed and slapped my arm.

Victory was mine.

"It's their---" she paused, "You can't tell anyone, Grayson."

"I'm no snitch," I glanced at her, my face solemn. Inside I was giddy with the thought of new gossip form Wayne Manor. Since Mattie and the wedding was old news, I was fresh out of material.

"I mean it, Bruce'll never forgive me if you blab." I nodded and she continued, "Bruce said it was their anniversary. That it was yesterday too, and that they had a date and he blew it. So he was making it up by giving the entire day, and night, to her."

I put my blinker on and turned right onto the private road that lead to Wayne Manor's drive. I was silent until we reached the gates, "So, wait, they have two anniversaries? For what?"

She sighed, "He didn't really explain it in detail, just that their anniversary started yesterday and ended today."

"Hmm... And his gift/brown-nosing to Selina is to spend a whole day doing whatever?"

"Right."

I nodded, "I would have bought her a car."

She smacked my arm again, "I think it's very thoughtful, and romantic."

I parked near the front door of the Manor and cut the engine, "Was that a statement or a hint?"

"Let's say both."

Oh, boy.

I got out first and helped Barbara into her chair. We then made our way to the front door and entered. Not even ten feet from the door sat an organized mass of Mattie stuff. Her car seat, two bags of clothes, another of toys, and a travel crib, not to mention a tote bag that most likely contained every possible baby thing anyone would ever need.

Oh, boy again.

Barbara suggested that I load the "belongings" while she sought out Bruce or Selina. Never one to do anything easily, I loaded up all of the bags on my arms and shoulders and then carried the crib and car seat, stacked one on top of the other. As I was about to fight with the doorknob, I heard brisk footfalls that could only have belonged to one person.

"Honestly, Master Dick, would it have been so terrible to make two trips instead of a single hazardous one?"

I smiled as Alfred came into view, making his way to the door. He opened it and as I walked through, I winked at him, "Thanks, Al."

I placed everything in the back of the vehicle and then proceeded to set up the car seat. Ten minutes later, the damned thing was secure after I pinched my finger in a few of the clasps and snaps a few too many times. Alfred was waiting when I returned.

"So, is all that just for one day. Grief, I hardly take a toothbrush when I go away for a week."

"Well, unlike you, Master Dick, Miss Mattie has additional requirements that must be met on a hourly basis."

"Um, diapers?"

"In addition to her meals, naps and entertainment."

I scratched the back of my head, as if in deep thought, "I suppose that would make sense. So was there anything else we had to take with us? Her bedroom, perhaps?"

Alfred shook his head and was about to speak when we heard soft giggling and voices coming our way. I looked up to see Bruce, wearing a dark dress shirt and pants of a similar hue. To anyone else, he would have appeared casual, and despite the slight bruise on his forehead, he did look normal. Well, to someone who didn't know him as well as I did.

His gait was hitched slightly, and as I looked closer, I realized he was favoring the left leg. The lower left leg. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his forearms appeared to be free of injury, but on his right hand, there was a splint on two of his fingers. And I would have bet a thousand dollars that he had a mile of gauze wrapped around at least three broken ribs.

Rough night, indeed.

In his arms, Mattie bounced up and down as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Every few strides, her feet would tap his side and an almost invisible grimace would wash over his face. She was dressed in tiny blue jeans and dark brown boots. Under her purple coat, I saw the hint of a green long-sleeved shirt.

Selina was dressed in a black pantsuit with a white silk blouse. She'd put her raven hair up into a bun. In her hand, she carried another "Mattie bag." That one might have to sit on Barbara's lap, I mused to myself. Barbara was next to Selina and they appeared to be chatting to each other and ignoring Bruce's suffering.

All was well in Wayne Manor.

They paused next to Alfred and I. Selina smiled and said hello and Bruce nodded slightly. Mattie turned looked at me and squealed "Dichie!"

She let her grasp on Bruce go and squirmed in his arms as she reached out for me. Bruce grunted and handed her over. I noticed that his left arm only went half way. I hugged her and plastered her neck with fishie kisses. She giggled and repeated my name.

"You want to spend the day with me and Babs?"

"Dichie pay dohl!"

"Yes, we can play dolls" I nodded and grinned at her.

Barbara took the bag from Selina and said, "Well have fun, we'll try and tire her out as much as possible."

Selina nodded, "Yeah, the kids center sounds like something she'll get a kick out of. Right, Bruce?" She elbowed him in the ribs and his breath gave out.

We turned around after parting good-byes and made our way to the door. I let Barbara go first and then turned around halfway through the door. I took Mattie's hand and waved it back at her parents. In a high-pitched, helium-esque voice I called out, "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy! Happy anniversary and don't forget to make me a baby brother tonight!"

Before Bruce could pummel me or before Selina could claw my eyes out, I dashed out the door and booked it to the car.

V

The day had run smoothly, with Dick, Mattie and I scouring the city for fun things to do. By four in the afternoon, we were all exhausted and ready for a group nap. We retired to the Clocktower and while Dick set up Mattie's crib in my room, I changed her one last time and fed her a bottle of warm milk.

The second Dick set her in the crib; she fell asleep, her tiny fingers wrapped around the tail of her stuffed panther.

We walked out to the living room and just as I was about to ask Dick if he wanted anything from the kitchen, he collapsed onto the sofa and moaned, "Remind me never to let you offer to do this again."

"I will try my best, Dick." I fetched a water bottle from the fridge and then returned to the living room. Dick had landed on his front, one arm pinned beneath him and the other draped to the floor. I patted his leg and he shifted over a bit. I pulled myself up and then laid next to him. "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

He shook his head, "If you forget three hours of kids screaming and Mattie deciding to convert from the angelic darling to the hellion heathen. Good lord, she's going to be fun when she's a teenager. They have their hands full, that's for sure."

I smiled, "Like you were always the behaved prince of charm."

"I never started a fight over a ball in a sea of balls in a giant ball pit. Thought she was going to get physical before I got there."

"She just needs to be socialized with kids her age. Selina is thinking about a playgroup that gets together on weekends. The kids play around, do whatever while the parents sit by and supervise. She just has to convince Bruce that Mattie's old enough and needs to start making friends other than Alfred."

"Yeah, that would probably help a bit. Living with too many grown ups can be a little dull."

I recalled what he said earlier as we left he Manor, "That's why we have siblings."

He grinned, "Who me?"

"Yes, you. And the little sly remark you made earlier, 'Make me a baby brother.' You do realize you won't be on Bruce's Good List for the next three years."

"Ah, so what. It was funny. Alfred smirked at least."

I laughed, "Yeah and Selina hissed."

"Meow," he replied.

We napped on the couch for two hours, dozing quietly. At ten after six, I got up and checked on Mattie. She was still deep in slumber and I didn't have the heart to wake her. Besides, it was going to be a long night anyway. Mattie's first introduction to the other part of her life. The night half. I had decided that later I would have Dick move her crib to the workroom so I could better keep an eye her.

Hopefully she would be able to sleep well, this being the first time away from home for an overnight without her parents. Bruce and Selina had taken her to a Bed and Breakfast in Canada for a weekend in January and that had been her first trip away. She had loved it, mostly because there was a moose that lived at the B&B, of which she called "Moob."

But seeing how close the family was, I really doubted anything would come up. At the Manor, Selina had told me that if she fussed too much, I could call her and she could come home. And when she went to get Mattie's bag, Bruce told me the same thing, but in not so many words, "If it gets bad, call, we'll come get her. If not, don't call."

Clear, to the point and oh so Bruce.

When I came back to the living room, Dick had gotten up and was in the kitchen. More specifically at the stove. I followed the odd sight and the intriguing smell. "What are you doing?"

"Cooking," he replied.

"Cooking what?"

"Spaghettio's. I don't have any at home."

I smiled, "That's because you don't shop."

"True. Mooching's easier on the wallet."

I made my way to the breadbox and retrieved two bagels. Once they were in the toaster oven, I found my water bottle from earlier and sat next to the table. "How long are you going to be in town tonight?"

"I don't know. I was thinking maybe I'd head back to 'Haven for a few hours then come back and finish off the night here. Was hoping I could crash here with you ladies if you don't mind."

I nodded, "Sounds like a plan to me. After last night, the city might be a little riled up but nothing too big had been going down. We've finally gotten everything under lock and key."

"All right. Where has Cass been working?"

"Mostly to the west. Bruce covers most of the downtown and east side, then they usually meet and finish up."

He turned the stove off and retrieved two bowls and two spoons. He poured the pan's contents in both bowls and then brought them over to the table. After another fifteen seconds, the timer went Ding! on the toaster and Dick retrieved the bagels. "Ouch!"

"Well, they did just sit in there at two-hundred and fifty degrees for a minute and a half."

He grumbled and tossed my bagel at me. I watched in awe as he slurped the Spaghettio's up, downed the bagel and put his dishes in the dishwasher. As he walked towards the bedroom, he winked at me.

He returned with Mattie and a jar of applesauce. She sported her pale pink bib and a smile. She ate quickly and looked up at Dick as if he was supposed to give her more. After a bit, she fussed and he rose and found a banana in the fridge. After breaking it up, he put it on a plate, with her help, and then returned to the table.

I smiled at him, awed with how natural he was with children. I had seen him so many over the years, even when he was Robin. He would be able to calm and help any child in distress by cracking a joke or just exuding the sheer will of everything being all right. And now, as an officer of the law, he came into contact with children victimized by domestic violence and tragedy. But right there, right then at my kitchen table, I saw the father he would someday be.

After a moment he looked up at me and grinned goofily, "What? Do have something on my face?"

Mattie raised a banana-mush covered finger and touched his cheek.

I laughed, "Now you do."

V

Now this was heaven.

It was two-thirty in the morning, well past the end of the second half of our anniversary. We were in bed, in that gleeful sleepiness that only comes after making love for fifteen minutes. For the third time in as many hours.

Bruce was sound asleep, facing me with his good hand entwined with mine. He had been the perfect gentleman throughout the entire day. Lunch had been in the den, in front of the fireplace and on a quilt spread over the carpet. From there, we retired to the entertainment den where the TV, stereo and DVD toys that all billionaires were required to have were housed. He sat through two James Bond movies with me and even offered to make popcorn. Not wanting charcoal kernels, I offered to help.

For dinner, we ate at the Ritz, sampled French champagne and ate light meals before heading to the Theatre District at half past eight. When Bruce had said he had gotten to tickets to every show in town, he had meant it. It took all afternoon to figure out which one I wanted to see. After some serious deliberation, I chose the left box seat of the Ambassador Theatre for the night's performance of "Chicago." Despite all the hype surrounding the film, I had never seen it or the musical. Everything else Bruce had tickets for had been running in Gotham a year or more and I had seen them all at least once.

During the intermission of the two and a half hour performance, Bruce bought us martinis and joked about him being Bond and I being the random love interest. He seemed to be enjoying himself and actually appeared to not even give a damn as several couples walked by, whispering to each other and trying not to be caught staring. Even with everything else going on, Gothamites still couldn't get over the fact that we were a couple.

As we made our way back to our seats, I snuggled up next to him and softly hummed the James Bond theme as I caressed his bow tie.

He laughed to himself until the lights dimmed.

Afterwards, we drove back to the Manor in a peaceful silence. When we arrived, Alfred had left a note on the credenza in the entry hall. He had gone to Leslie's for the evening and had also checked in with Barbara. Mattie was doing just fine and Dick would wrap up patrols for the evening. Nothing to worry about at all.

Bruce hung our coats up in the closet and glanced at his watch, "Only an hour left." He yawned theatrically and commented, "Well, I'm going to take a bath and then go to bed, good night," and pecked my cheek.

I hooked my arm around his, "Sounds good to me."

When we opened the door to our bedroom, the lights were off but it glowed warmly. Alfred must have just left, for there were well over a dozen candles freshly lit and strategically placed around the massive room. A cart, near the end of the bed, had been covered in white linen and on it was a tray of the chocolate covered strawberries from last night and a bottle of Merlot as it chilled in ice. I walked over and selected a strawberry and ate it. Chilled to perfection. Bruce disrobed his suit coat, tie and shoes and set them on a chair by the dresser before joining me.

"Good," he commented after having one himself.

"Beyond good. The best. Well chocolate covered pretzels are better, but not nearly as romantic."

He smiled and then headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open. I ate two more strawberries before investigating. He sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, his shirt gone as well as his socks. The bandages had also been removed to reveal angry red suture lines and mottled bruising over a good portion of his torso. I sat on the tub next to him and touched the water. Nice and hot. Whenever Bruce took a bath or even a shower it was usually tepid (read: freezing) but I wouldn't join him unless it was at least near boiling.

I selected a bottle of mild baby bath and poured it into the filling tub. It wouldn't aggravate his wounds too badly but it would still lather up for some fun bubbles. As he checked over his injuries, I returned to the main part of the bedroom, took the strawberry platter, the wine and the two glasses and returned to find him easing himself into the water.

"Look on the bright side, the hot water will sterilize your wounds," I grinned as I set the tray on the in-wall shelf beside the tub. I poured the wine as well and handed him the glasses to hold.

I then ran back out, shutting the lights off to his protest. I returned to the bathroom with four candles and set them on the corners of the enormous tub's lips. Bruce's face was shadowy in the dim light, but I still saw him smiling.

I let my dress slip from my body and I joined him in the tub, putting my back against his chest. I took my wine glass from him and we had a silent toast before drinking. After I was done, I let out a joyful "Ah" and refilled my glass. We soaked in the tub for nearly forty minutes, sipping cold wine and devouring the treats.

At exactly midnight, he leaned forward and nuzzled my neck, murmuring, "Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary, Bruce," I replied, allowing my head to roll back and allow him greater access. I grinned suddenly, "What do you say we get working on that baby brother."

He laughed loudly, kissed me behind my ears as his hands began to knead my shoulders.

"I'll get right on that ma'am."

And he did.

As I laid in bed next to him, feeling slumber's long-awaited arrival, I smiled as I mused to myself that next year, I would get him to expand our anniversary to three days.

V

"Babs, I hope you got that bed warmed up, I'm freezing," I stuttered over the comm. link. I had been expecting mild weather and had brought a lighter version of my Nightwing suit. Big mistake.

"You're not getting in my bed with ice feet."

I sighed, "Fine, then get the blow dryer ready."

I was three blocks away from the Clocktower. I scanned its visage to see it was nearing three-forty-five in the morning. A late night, but a good one. Not much activity outside of the general scum that plague any big city. No madmen, no gang wars, no riots or even major emergencies to help out with.

I still kept myself occupied enough so that I felt I did the job right. Having been in Batman's shoes for over a year had given me a higher standard of work. Just as I prepared to shoot a line to her balcony, I asked, "What do you think they're doing right now?"

"Aside from sleeping?"

"Who goes to bed before five in the morning?" I laughed and shot the line. Once I tested it, I swung out; twenty stories above the street below and thirty feet from my destination.

She laughed as well, "I think I know. And you do too, and we shouldn't talk about it. It's neither proper, nor civilized."

That was an Alfred quote if I ever heard one.

"What's that?" I asked innocently, despite the devious grin that formed on my lips.

Barbara laughed quietly with resignation, "Well, Dickie, when a man and a woman really love each other..."

V


	12. Life Is Good: XII

Title: Life Is Good: XII

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

It was just before six-thirty when I heard them outside of my door.

We had been out late the night before, busy with the gangs that were starting up problems again. Tim had been back in school for some time so it was just the two of us and the city. As a result of all of the extra activity, he decided that we would partner up together for patrols instead of splitting the city in half and meeting up later.

By the end of the night, I could hardly keep my eyes open. He took me to his home, to sleep for the night. Even though my mask covered my face, I think he saw me smiling.

We had walked the rooftops to Milton Ave, where the car was concealed in a long forgotten alley. We got in and he pulled out onto the avenue as I settled into the deep seat. I fell asleep almost instantly and hardly stirred once we got to the cave.

I woke the next morning in a guest room, dressed in flannel pants and a large sweatshirt.

And to the sound of cries of pain.

Infantile cries.

I jumped out of bed and raced across the room, hardly making a sound on the carpeted floor. After pressing myself against the door, I listened intently to the voices outside.

Mattie bawled in between coughing fits, which reminded me of the seals on TV. I could hear him talking to her quietly, trying to soothe her. And even more so, I heard Selina talking.

At first, I thought it had been to him, but then I figured she was on the phone after he remained silent to her questions.

"Well, it's not too high, only 100, but the coughing has changed, there's more wheezing. Okay, but should we---. We tried that. Yes, the humidifier next to her bed. Nothing. She acts sleepy but she just can't seem to settle. Okay, okay, we'll bring her down."

The hall was deprived of conversation, and only the sound of her cries could be heard.

Then my door opened.

I saw that Selina had taken Mattie and was headed back in the general direction of their room. He stood in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a dark long sleeved shirt. Three hours ago, his face had been calm, free of worry. Now it was darkened, the corners of his eyes tight and burdened.

As I looked into his icy eyes, I saw something I had never seen before, at least in him.

I saw fear.

"Cassandra, I need you to stay here, we have to take Mattie to Leslie."

"Sick?" I asked, my voice soft with my own growing concern.

He glanced in the direction Selina had gone and nodded, "She had a cold last week, but it's getting worse," his voice softened as he looked away.

"I can't go?"

He sighed, looked down at his feet briefly before looking back at my face, "Do you want to?"

I nodded rapidly.

He turned away, "Get dressed; we're leaving in two minutes."

I was ready in one.

When I exited through the front door, he had already pulled out an SUV, the engine humming. I looked through the windshield to see him sitting behind the wheel with the seat next to him empty. After a closer look, I saw that Selina was in the back, setting Mattie up in her car seat and covering her with a light blanket.

After opening the door, I hopped into the "shotgun" seat as Tim called it and buckled up. Without pausing, he shifted the car into drive and sped off.

I looked into the back again. Selina wore a wool coat over a tee shirt and flannel pajama pants. Usually she was concerned with her appearance, but not at that moment. All of her attention was on her child.

Their child.

Mattie fussed, her arms moved about and her face was flushed and dampened with tears. Selina leaned over in the seat, placing a hand on her daughter's chest, "It's okay, love, we're going to get you better."

She caught me looking and offered a smile.

I smiled back and then put my eyes frontward. Every few seconds, I would glance to the back and when I moved gaze to the front again, I would look at him. As Batman, he was always alert, but never tense. Tension did not lead to any sort of focus, but being aware of your surroundings did.

The muscles of his shoulders and arms were flexed and strained against the form fitting sleeves. His knuckles were white as his hands clenched the wheel. His face was perhaps the most intense feature about him. Lips pressed tightly, eyes squinted in concentration. The tendons of his neck stood out more so than usual.

His eyes cut through the darkness of the dawn fog.

He was very tense.

Barely ten before seven, we pulled into the rear lot behind the clinic. There was only one other car and I knew who it belonged to. The sweetest, nicest woman to have ever lived.

Dr. Leslie.

She stood at the rear entrance, which was wide open behind her. Her long white doctor's coat covered pale blue scrubs but did not conceal her concern. Her face was solemn and her hands were crossed over her front, hugging herself.

As soon as the engine was cut, he stepped out of the vehicle and walked over the back door to retrieve Mattie. She had stopped crying but still acted uneasy. He lifted her out of the seat and carried her away, holding her close to his chest and covering her with the blanket.

I sat there, still buckled, in the seat and watched as he and Leslie quickly made their way into he clinic, the door shutting behind them.

It wasn't until I felt Selina's hand on my shoulder that I realized I wasn't alone.

And that I was crying.

V

"Well, she's vocal, so she's passing air."

I walked briskly, Bruce following me with his long strides, holding Mattie to his chest as she mumbled in between coughing and bouts of tears. As we made our way down the hall, he paused at the door to the first treatment room on the right. He had spent many a night there, but the last had been when he had been shot two years prior.

I turned back to face him, "Bruce, I need her in the Peds room."

"But why can't you treat her in here?" Even without the mask, I saw the powerful influence of Batman in his stance. Great criminal masterminds cowered at the sight of him, even men of the law were afraid of him.

"Don't even start with me, Bruce. All of pediatric equipment is up here, not in there. All that's in there is a jar full of spent bullets and a few Batarangs you've left behind." His mouth opened to protest, but I cut him off, "Don't make me send you to the lounge."

He growled and continued on down the hall.

Selina's call had come to my home phone just after six. She seemed frantic and worried and could hardly keep her nerves settled long enough to explain to me what was going on. Bruce had taken the phone from her and then chronologically delivered vitals, stats and anything else he could possibly know about how is daughter was doing. He then gave the phone back to Selina for her to give her view of the matter.

The week before, Mattie had come down with a bout of sniffles and coughs. She had just been enrolled in a playgroup and no matter how clean a baby is, it isn't clean enough. One child in the group had brought the cold bug in and they all had left with it. Being her first real illness, it threw Mattie back a bit, and Bruce took four days off of work to be with her during the day so that Selina could rest up for the night shift. When he brought her in for a check up three days ago, he looked dead on his feet but Mattie had been bouncing in his arms and ready to explore my office.

And now she had relapsed.

I practically pried the child from Bruce's hands and set her up on my exam table. I handed her a soft doll and pulled up the crib sidepieces in case she decided to move around. She laid on her back, clutching the doll and watching our every move around the room. "Bruce, get me a swab out of the jar over there."

He stared at me if I had said it in Greek before jerking slightly and retrieving the swab. While he did so, I retrieved a sample tube to put the swab in to keep it from any contamination. I also selected a small tongue depressor, an otoscope, digital thermometer and a small jar of Vicks chest rub.

Bruce had returned to the table and was rubbing Mattie's front side gently. She smiled lightly but then coughed. I stood by, listening carefully. As Selina had said over the phone, there was some wheezing, but nothing too bad. Her stomach rose higher than I would have liked when she drew in breath and moved too much when she exhaled. She moved her head and her arms up in the air, letting out a slight whine. She wanted to be held.

After she began kicking out a bit, I decided the best way to do this was to have Bruce hold her. I had him sit in the rocking chair next to the wall and sat beside him on a stool.

She dropped the doll and clutched onto his shirtsleeve.

As she sat up in his arms, her breathing improved and she hardly coughed once. I listened to her heart and lungs carefully, during normal and distressed breathing. I took the cotton swab and gently opened her mouth to take a sample from her throat. That set off some fussing but Bruce calmed her quickly.

Her ears were clean and her throat was hardly irritated from all of her coughing. The lack of redness or swelling unfortunately suggested a lower respiratory tract problem instead of the run of the mill common cold. As did the wheezing and irregularities in her breath sounds.

I had a good idea on what was ailing the Wayne baby.

"Bruce, has she been having bouts of rapid breathing?"

He looked up at me, "Yes, after coughing."

"Any other time?"

He paused, his eyes falling back to Mattie, "Yes. After activity, but she hasn't been up and about lately so I haven't seen it recently."

"So there was breathing issues before hand?"

"Not problems, I--- more like she was out of breath from running around."

I sighed and then reached for Mattie's hand as it clamped to his shirt. Her hands were a bit chilly, but then again she had just been in a car for the last twenty minutes or so. I traced her small fingers and she moved them a bit but then retook her grasp on his shirt.

Daddy's little girl.

"Bruce, we're going to need x-rays."

He nodded and then rose slowly, keeping her close to his body. So protective...

"It's a lower resp condition, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly.

"Not pneumonia, no fluid in her lungs. Asthma?"

I smiled a bit, thinking back to how he would diagnose himself as a child when he came in for check ups. Before hand, Tom had been his physician but after he passed on, I took up the care of Bruce's health.

I recalled one occasion where Alfred had brought him in one weekend when Bruce couldn't have been more then eleven. He had a cough and fever and promptly explained his symptoms as he sat on the exam table. Alfred stood at the door, a smile on his face, "Looks like someone has found the medical section in the library."

He had replied in the midst of removing his shirt, "Well, they have to be read by somebody, what good's a book if it just sits on a shelf?"

Later, Alfred and I had joked that Bruce would be a great doctor someday. Little did we know the path of life he had already laid out for himself and it's affect it would have on all of us.

V

As I stood in front of my dressing mirror, I realized how dreary the day had become. Instead of my usual garb, I had dressed for town, with dark slacks and a nice sweater over a dress shirt. Master Bruce said to be comfortable since he didn't know how long the day would grow to be. Any other trip into the city was usually casual, most commonly for shopping or running errands.

This one, however, was not.

Master Bruce had woken me at five thirty. He had returned from is patrols a handful of hours prior and by the look of his form, I knew he hadn't slept at all. Dressed in sleeping wear, his robe and with his still damp hair from a shower he had taken earlier, he had knocked at my door and then waited intensely for me to answer.

I had wrapped my own cotton robe about my form before opening the door. I knew at once what was the cause of his concern. Miss Mattie had been battling a cold the week prior and had been a bit off since her recovery a few days earlier. And even though my quarters are a floor below and three rooms away from his quarters, I had heard worried voices and the cries of the young child.

He requested me to look her over and I complied at once.

Instead of being in the nursery, Miss Mattie was in Selina's arms as she sat on the sofa by the bay window. She coughed a bit, the force moving her small body, then resumed to whimpering cries.

At the sight of me, Selina's face brightened, but not enough to mask her fatigue and sadness. Master Bruce recited the child's vitals as I checked them and also described her behavior through the night. It didn't take too long for me to suggest a trip to Dr. Thompkins was in order. He agreed readily and sought out the phone to call her.

They left shortly after, taking Miss Cassandra with them. The child looked positively frightened, for she held such a special bond with the child. As we all did.

I took upon myself to inform the other members of the family.

First and closest was Barbara Gordon. She took it well and promised to get a hold of Tim at school.

After a few tries, I finally broke through to Master Dick's "office" phone.

A tobacco-charred voice answered, "Grayson's desk."

"I wish to speak to Officer Grayson, is he available?"

"Nah, he don't work here no more, can I take a message?" and hoarse laughter.

"This is Alfred Pennyworth, may I ask to the whereabouts of Officer Grayson?"

"Sure, he ain't here no more, he ain't anywhere no more."

"I beg your pardon?"

There was brief shuffle and change of hands before Master Dick's voice said, "Sorry, some people don't have manners around here."

"By what did that gentleman, and I use the term loosely, mean saying that Officer Grayson no longer worked at the Department?"

"Oh hi Alfred. Him, oh that, yeah, I got a promotion kind of..."

"Master Dick, how splendid."

"Yeah, Sergeant Grayson now."

"Very good sir, Master Bruce will be so pleased to hear it."

Master Dick sighed, "Yeah I bet. So what's going on, you're actually lucky you caught me I was just heading home, had to work the night shift and all... Alfred?"

"Master Dick, Miss Mattie has fallen ill---"

"She's still sick?"

"More so of a relapse rather than a continuation, sir."

"Is it bad, I mean serious?"

My silence confirmed his suspicion.

"Oh, God, Alfred where is she?"

"They took her to Dr. Thompkins for now, but she may require attention outside of the good doctor's abilities."

"I'm on my way. You call Bruce and tell him I'll be there as soon as I can."

With that, he hung up, most likely dashing through the labyrinth of desks at the station. He, too, was worried, although he would never voice it as Ms. Barbara would.

Like father, like son, I suppose.

After a short commute from Bristol, I arrived at the clinic a little after seven-thirty. In the rear lot, there were a few vehicles, but a vacant space in between Dr. Thompkins' sedan and the SUV Master Bruce had driven earlier. Even once the vehicle I drove was evenly placed between the two, I paused before exiting.

I was the rock.

They needed me.

Their child was in the grasp of an unknown ailment.

The rear entrance to the clinic lead the way into a dark, dank hall that very few had to ever pass through. I had done so for years. I first checked the emergency exam room that Dr. Thompkins had reserved especially for her masked patients. I wasn't all too shocked when I didn't find the ill child, but instead her rattled mother and favorite babysitter.

Ms. Kyle sat on the edge of the gurney, her hands in her lap, shoulders hunched and head hanging low from her neck. Her hair had been pulled back into a bun, revealing the same worried features I had seen over an hour earlier. Beside her and laying horizontally, was Miss Cassandra. She had been covered with a heavy wool coat, of which I recognized to be Master Bruce's. Her lids covered her eyes and her lips parted slightly in a way that only slumber would allow.

"Alfred?"

My gaze returned to Ms. Kyle. She looked at Cassandra once before slowly sliding off of the gurney and onto the linoleum floor. She then walked passed me and out into the corridor. I offered one last look at the sleeping adolescent and then followed suit.

Before I had even begun to shut the door she asked, "Do you know anything?"

"I have just arrived, Ms. Kyle, I have yet to seek Dr. Thompkins out."

"Oh," she looked away, "Bruce came back for a bit, said they needed x- rays."

"To rule out any foreign bodies in her lungs, madam."

"Right."

She wrapped her arms around herself and stood a bit taller, "I want to go see her."

I was unaware as to why Ms. Kyle had been left out of the examination of her daughter, but I knew it was quite unfair for her to keep wondering. Leaving Miss Cassandra to her well-deserved rest, I lead her to the radiology room, which was a brief navigation through winding halls and dead ends. The room itself was divided in two: the actual radiography machine on one half and the observation and controls on the other side of a lead lined barrier. We paused at the door briefly before walking in.

Dr. Thompkins was at the controls, lining up the exact images she desired to take. I noticed Ms. Kyle's shoulders tremor slightly and I gently touched them with a hand. She turned, smiled, and then set her gaze on the other side of the room.

Master Bruce, garbed in a lead apron, stood next to the radiograph table. Miss Mattie was laid out upon it, stripped to her diaper. She was in some form of a support cradle that disabled any movement from rolling or writhing. Although the terrifying piece of equipment loomed above her, she laid still as her father caressed her face.

After taking a few shots at varied angles, Dr. Thompkins turned around and nodded at us both. She then turned to Master Bruce, "We're all set, and you can get her dressed again and take her to the back."

He nodded, slipped the apron off and then lifted his child off of the table.

Suddenly, Ms. Kyle stepped forward and approached them. She smiled at her daughter, tears brimming her eyes, and then leaned over and kissed the child. She smiled at her mother and spoke quietly, "Mah-mie happie." Master Bruce's arm reached around his soon to be wife as the tears broke and spread across her cheeks. I stood by Dr. Thompkins as we watched the small family embrace in the middle of the radiology room.

As I watched the scene before my aged eyes, a quote rose up in the deep recesses of my mind. Muriel Spark, an English poet, had always been fond of family life and used it in her work on several occasions. As I watched the couple embrace and as their child rested within the entanglement of their forms, I smirked slightly, no matter how dank the moment was. For "parents learn a lot from their children about coping with life."

As Miss Mattie giggled, I knew it to be true.

V

My alarm went off at seven. I hit the snooze three times before I finally dragged myself out of bed. I had decided to skip out on the homework last night to enjoy a fraction of my already lame social life. Although we had a great time in town, I unfortunately had to get up two hours earlier to tackle my statistics.

I sat at my desk, my elementary stat book opened to one-thirty, my warm cherry cola at hand for the caffeine fix I so desperately needed. We had six problems assigned to us, each of which would take up at least of page.

Problem number one: Find the range, variance and standard deviation for the following sample of raw data. 10, 9, 345, 43, 11, 65, 4, 78...

Yeah, time to check my away message.

I turned my monitor on and saw I had two messages received by my "Slowly getting lost in my Stat book, get at me". One was from a guy in my Human Resource class that wanted to know when our term paper was due and the other was from Barbara.

**OraBG99**: Tim I need to talk to you!

Okay. I sent a reply.

**JediTimmy**: what's up?

**OraBG99**: Secure?

**JediTimmy**: definitely, why the c & d?

**OraBG99**: I just wanted to let you know that Mattie's sick.

**JediTimmy**: k, but y?

**OraBG99**: Sick as in she's been taken to Leslie sick.

**JediTimmy**: she ok?

**OraBG99**: Alfred just called me, said they had x-rays done at Leslie's and that they were going to see

a respiratory therapist at Mercy.

"Shit," I muttered before replying.

**JediTimmy**: what's wrong with her?

**OraBG99**: Alfred said that it's probably asthma.

**JediTimmy**: at that age, how did she get it?

**OraBG99**: Sometimes it just happens, and plus her living in that big house, not even Alfred can get all of the dust.

**OraBG99**: When's your last class?

I thought quickly, it was a Friday so..

**JediTimmy**: 2:20

**OraBG99**: I'll update you then okay?

**JediTimmy**: sure thing

She signed off abruptly and I tried to get back to my books. Asthma was serious in any individual but in a toddler? That was a frightening. Although if they catch it early and can start treating her, then it wouldn't be that bad. Right?

I closed my statistics book and set it on the floor. After cracking my knuckles, I went at the computer, searching for articles relevant to toddler asthma. I actually found quite a bit, scanned it for an hour or so and then compiled a document that had most of the important things in it: symptoms, treatments, factors affecting a child with asthma and whatnot.

I emailed them to Bruce and Barbara with a small note attached: Here's what I could find, you need anything let me know, Tim.

It was the least I could do. After all, whenever the Batclan was in trouble, Robin had to be there to swing in at the last minute and save the day. Or at least pose as the decoy.

With thirty minutes before class, I finished my assignments, showered, shaved, dressed and even had breakfast bagel in the dining hall. While everyone else made their way to their classes, their minds were filled with anxiousness for the weekend to start. Their smiles were true and care free. I played the part, laughing it up and joking along with the rest of the gang.

As I walked quickly to my first class, Paul Henley jogged to catch up with me, "Man, you got anxiety problems about being late to class or what?"

"Nah, just to get the day over with," I replied.

He laughed and slapped my back, "Hot date, Drake?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as I made my way to the stairway.

"Well, that is something to get excited over, isn't it?" he joked before turning off for his own destination.

My anxiety wasn't for the clubs or having a good time.

Mine was for my Family.

V


	13. Life Is Good: XIII

Title: Life Is Good: XIII

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Bruce's dream sequence is based on a scene in the 1966 Classic "Batman: The Movie" directed by Leslie Martinson, thanks Chris for the awesome idea!

V

A bomb.

There was a bomb fuse burning.

I searched the room feverishly, as did Robin. No luck, only louder fizzing. Suddenly, Robin emerged from a closet in the vacant apartment, "Look Batman, gee whiz it's a doozie!"

I ripped it from his gloved hands then promptly pushed him away, "Away, Robin! Away" I bellowed.

He stood shocked and frozen in place momentarily before heading out the window for safety.

I had begun to follow him out as well, bomb in hand, but a small Salvation Army Band passed by, tubas blaring. I raced form the room, bomb still fizzing, and raced through a doorway. I found myself at the top of a stairwell, overlooking a bar filled with drunk and fighting patrons. I called out the first thing that came to my mind, "Quick! Everyone, flee for your lives! Into the streets!"

Everyone dashed to the nearest exits, screaming with fear and I was shocked to see two overweight women had remained at their table, devouring what appeared to by an all you could eat portion of the day's catch.

Upon exiting, I was disoriented with a burst of sudden sunlight. I was no longer in the old housing complex of the East End where the bomb threat had been called into but on the docks of Gotham Harbor in the middle of the afternoon. The bar I had just been in had been none other the Ye Olde Benbow Taverne. With no time to spare on rationalizing the sudden change in location, I set out to cast the bomb off into a safe place for it to explode. But before I could even begin to approach the water, a set on nuns shuffled by, chatting about life and the Lord. I about-faced and headed south down the boardwalk and nearly ran into a young woman pushing a baby carriage.

From there, I dashed in an easterly direction and met up once more with the Salvation Army band, tubas and trumpets still blasting.

This was a nightmare!

I passed by them, holding the fast-burning bomb over my head. While dashing down the planked boardwalk, pedestrians gasped and scattered at the sight of me. Once I reached a secluded region, I began to toss the bomb in to the water. Luckily, I hesitated on the release and spared the lives of two young lovers in a rowboat. When I turned around and headed further down, I nearly collided with a well-designated storage area loaded with butane tanks and innocent civilians.

After a few steps back, I set out to a further spot down the docks and once again ran into the nuns, the woman and baby carriage and the haunting SA band.

Finally, I arrived at a part that appeared to be a clear and safe place to get rid of the bomb.

But there were baby ducks.

I muttered to myself, "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb."

Baby ducks.

Baby.

Mattie.

I lurched forward in bed; sweat covering my body as my breaths came in heaves. It was a dream, of some sort. It took nearly a minute for my vitals to dip back to normal and for me to become aware of where I had been.

The Torres Hotel, Suite Ten. I searched the bedroom for a clock and found an alarm reading 9:30 P.M. I rose slowly and scanned the room for any sign of Selina. After finding none and finally recognizing the sound of a television, I left the room and headed to the den of the suite.

After being at Mercy Hospital for well over ten hours, Selina had left to make hotel accommodations across the street. It was brand new facility put up especially for those who were family members of hospitalized individuals. And since Bristol was a good half hour drive, it seemed to be the most logical path. After Barbara had showed up with Dick at six, I was dead on my feet, exhausted both mentally and physically. Since Mattie had fallen ill I had been without sleep or rest, her pain had consumed me.

The second we had walked through the door of our room, I collapsed on the bed, mumbling to be woken in three hours.

Well, she was a half hour late.

I found Selina, showered and in a robe, on the den couch, surfing the channels with one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. A tray nearby held a pot and another cup in addition to several pastries and a cream server. Silently, I walked up behind her and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

She smiled, dropped the remote and scratched my stubble with her free hand, "Fuzzy wuzzy." I smiled and slowly walked around and sat beside her. She leaned into my shoulder and spoke quietly, "Alfred brought by some clothes, if you wanted to change."

I nodded and wrapped an arm around her back.

"She's going to be fine, Bruce."

A sigh escaped my lips but no other sound.

"Barbara called, said Mattie ate dinner, too, and she fell asleep pretty good."

I felt the tightness in my chest return from earlier that day.

That dream was so disturbing that it took over my mind as Selina talked to me. No matter what I did, I couldn't bump the images out of focus. My daughter was in the hospital, now diagnosed with asthma and all I could do was think of that damned band and the stupid ducks floating around without a care in the world.

"When do you want to go back over?"

I spoke finally, "Soon. I'll clean up, change. We'll leave at quarter of."

"Yes, sir," she said as she rose off of the couch and returned her coffee cup to the tray.

I got up as well and made my way back to the bedroom. In the small closet, sure enough, there were pressed jeans and a hanging sweater next to a similar outfit that was for Selina.

I stood motionless, staring at the closet and thinking of Tim as he had exited one similar in my dream.

What was going on?

"Bruce?"

I faced her, seeing the pain in her face as she stood at the end of the bed. Her eyes had been red throughout the day, on an off tears being the cause. I too had been saddened by our daughter's illness but had kept inside. Pushing away any form of console. Pushing Robin away.

Get out of here.

I approached her and took her into my arms just as her tears brimmed over. We slowly reclined to the bed, and I pulled her on to my lap. Her arms circled my neck and I felt a hot wetness seep into my shirt as she pressed her face into my neck.

It hit me like ice water.

The plague, the earthquake, my being shot by Pasqualle.

Mattie's illness.

The dream.

All had been times where I had been helpless in protecting the ones I loved.

V

As a kid I hadn't watched much TV. I had been busy with the circus and whenever we did have access to television, I was usually caught up with something a bit more important. Then, after my parents died, I was with Bruce and Alfred, who only watched the news if anything. The first time I really got into the catatonic warmness of TV was in college but it never really caught on besides the soaps that everyone watched.

But right there, in Mattie's private room at Mercy General, the pointless plots of primetime seemed brilliant.

As a commercial replaced the sitcom I had been hypnotized by, I chanced a glance at Mattie. She was in a small, high-sided bed, slumbering quietly despite the IV in her arm and the general hospital noises originating from the hall. I had turned the lights out at seven when she fell asleep and had been sitting at her bedside in the event she woke and began to fuss. I stood to stretch my cramped legs and walked over to the door. A peek into the hall at a large clock showed the time to be quarter of ten.

I suddenly wondered to myself, Wasn't there some hospital drama on at ten?

That would be funny, watching a hospital show while at a hospital.

"Dick?"

I looked towards the north end of the hall to see Barbara approaching with her father behind her. She had been with me that evening as we took over for Bruce and Selina, and had gone on a coffee run but I saw no cups.

We had called Jim a little after six to see if he had wanted to drop by. He had showed interest but didn't want to intrude. Barbara said he was silly and that he should come once he got out of work. Ah, that's my Babs, dominant little vixen.

I saw Jim holding three Styrofoam cups and I smiled.

"She still asleep?" Barbara asked.

I nodded and then opened the door wider so they could enter the room, "Yeah, like a baby."

She slapped my arm as she moved by me.

Jim just handed me my coffee cup.

They both moved over to the bed and stared at the slumbering toddler as I looked on from the door. Now that Jim was the best man for the wedding and Barbara was the maid of honor, I kind of felt a little like the odd man out. Tim and I were still going to stand at the alter with Bruce but just one spot further away. Who was I to complain, Bruce and Jim had known each other for decades. Why should I have to intrude upon that relationship they have fought so hard to keep going?

Before I could move closer to them, I felt the door being pushed from the outside into my back. I spun around and moved out of the way. It was Bruce and Selina, both hardly looking any different then when they had left four hours earlier, aside from clean clothes of course. Alfred wouldn't allow the sin of wearing the same garments for more than twelve hours, no matter what the circumstances.

Thinking of Alfred brought a growl to my stomach. He had gone off to a local restaurant to pick up some food to get our blood sugar ready for the long night ahead. Cassie had gone with him, her high metabolism unquenched by vending machine candy bars that she had sucked down all day. So while we waited for their return, I could think of nothing else than my pastrami and rye sub soaking with special sauces...

"Back so soon?" Barbara asked from behind me.

Selina smiled and approached her daughter's bedside, "Couldn't stay away too long from this angel." She caressed Mattie's cheek softly and then faced me, "So she ate?"

I nodded, "Apple sauce, some small pieces of bread and a cup of peach cubes."

"Sounds good," Jim smiled briefly.

"Well, don't worry, Alfred and Cassandra are out on a mission to get supplies of the edible kind," Barbara stated as she shut the TV off. I sighed because I had wanted to see which guy would get that what's-her-name- girl. Then I sighed again for being sucked into the TV's never-ending powers.

Everyone began small talk and filled Jim in on how Mattie was doing. During this brief moment, I took a chance to look Bruce over. He had gone to rest at the hotel but despite the new clothes and shaved jaw, he looked worse. More ragged. He looked off towards Mattie bed, but made no move to even step all the way through the door. I nodded at him but he didn't see it. I waved my hand a bit and he also ignored me. Just as daring as I was as a kid, on the trapeze or the rooftops, I reached out and tried to poke him the eye with all the finesse of the Three Stooges.

He grabbed my fingers without even flinching and proceeded to squeeze them just hard enough to pop them without causing permanent damage.

I retained my dignity and bit my lip instead of crying out at the sudden jolt of pain. He released my digits and spoke softly, "I saw you."

"Well you could have given a sign so I didn't have to go to the extremes."

"Whatever, Sergeant."

My mouth gaped, "Alfred told you?"

"That and I saw it in the Bludhaven Times. Eighth page next to the article on the new pothole repairs of Central Avenue."

"Yep, I'm a regular celebrity now."

The awaited silence that always fell between us finally arrived.

His lip twitched and he finally looked over at me, "She can go home tomorrow morning, as long as everything stays in the clear."

"That's great, Bruce, really. Are they going to give her meds?"

"Her pulmonologist, Dr. Ritten was in the hall, just now. We have the oxygen tank and nebulizer at home, and her prescriptions will be filled out in the morning for the bronchodilators and the corticosteroids."

My eyes rolled on their own at each of the five or more syllable words that fell out of his mouth.

He must have seen my reaction because he clarified, "To help her breathing, Dick."

"I figured that much," I tilted my head, "Doesn't take a rocket doctor to figure that much out."

He nodded and with one last look, then walked over to Mattie's bedside. She had been slowly waking up in her bed as Bruce and I had talked, and I mused that it was his voice that stirred her. Her tiny arms rose toward him and I watched as he carefully lifted her, carefully avoiding to disturb the IV line in her arm. He held her facing his chest and her hands gripped his shirt collar slowly. I heard her mumble "Dah-ie" and I couldn't help but smile.

Bruce was a great father.

Not only was he constantly there for you, but he always made everything seem as if it were going to be all right.

V

It took Bruce ten minutes to get ready for our return trip to Mercy.

I dressed, put my hair up and dumped my coffee cup in the kitchenette and even had a minute to spare. He emerged from the bedroom looking better, but not by much. He had tortured himself for nearly two weeks, no rest that could count for anything more than a resting of his eyes. Even when he did get home from patrols at a decent hour, he would sit next to Mattie's crib until I pleaded with him to come to bed. It didn't help him, however, for he would lie next to me and pretend to sleep or even worse, fall into a restless slumber.

"Ready?"

I had been sitting on the arm of the couch waiting for him. He walked over and looked down at me until I got up. He grabbed his coat and keys off of the small credenza just inside the main door and then opened it for me.

The three-minute drive to Mercy seemed pointless, but then again, so did the idea of crossing a four-lane highway and walking eight blocks in the middle of March. We parked in the in patient lot and then walked into the hospital. When moving through the glass entrance doors, I felt Bruce's hand on the small of my back. I reached back and snatched to hold in my own.

Our ride up to the fifth floor of the hospital was not done alone. A pair of male and female medical interns, who looked as if it had been months since a full night's sleep, stood behind us and gawked a bit. At first I thought they were going to be foolish but thankfully they kept their mouths shut until we stepped off at our destination, "Those are the parents of that asthma peds case that Doc Ritten has. She is the sweetest little thing..."

"Ah, Bruce, they think our Kitten is sweet."

He grumbled something to himself but kept walking.

As we passed through the automatic doors that sealed of the Pediatric Ward, I spotted Dr. Charles Ritten, a tall, slender man with the kindly older face that so many grandfathers took on. He had a friendly smile on his face at all times he was within sight of a child and was always comforting when speaking with parents. A little after ten that morning a child had passed away down the hall, final stages of leukemia, and he had sat with the boy's mother for hours as she cried her pain into his doctor's coat.

And then, with a dampened coat, he had come into our room, smiling and went about tickling Mattie's sides.

He was leaning over the administration counter, his dark slacks and loafers contrasting with his white coat. Clipboard and pen in hand, I noticed he was writing on the bottom of various sheets held beneath the clip. A nurse sat on the other side of the desk and chatted with him gleefully.

I elbowed Bruce a bit and lead him towards Dr. Ritten.

"There ya be, Carol that should do it, eh?" he grinned as he handed the nurse the clipboard.

She looked in our direction as she spoke, "Looks like you're not out of here yet."

He followed her gaze, "Bruce, Selina. Back so soon?"

Bruce nodded coldly and I squeezed his hand briefly before letting go and moving over towards the desk. He folded his stethoscope and pocketed in the coat as I said, "Yeah, just need a quick nap, how is she?"

"I just checked her vitals and her ox levels are super. We used the aerochamber again to give her the Pediapred and the humidifier is still on but not full force. I have her 'scripts written out and Carol here will pick them up for you in the morning and if all goes well tonight she will be discharged in the morning."

I had no words for him.

All I could do was wrap my arms around him.

After a few more exchanges of gratitude, Dr. Ritten shook Bruce's hand and said, "Well, I'll see y'all in the morning, I think the missus is already starting to wonder where I've gone to."

I watched him go to the elevators, slowly removing his coat. I had asked him around noon why he had chosen the profession of pediatric pulmonolgy. He had been sitting next to me in Mattie's room. Mattie had just gone another round with the nebulizer and now rested comfortably in her father's arms. He sighed after a long while and finally replied, "My first born died of infantile pneumonia at the age of two. There weren't any specialists down in Georgia where I lived. I had just enrolled in med school and knew right then what I was going to do."

It had been one of the saddest things I had ever heard, but he assured me he was fine now, with two girls in college and a sixteen-year-old boy making his way through high school.

I waved as he stepped on the elevator and he waved back.

"Shall we?" Bruce asked, his hand at my elbow.

I turned around and threw my arms around him, right in front of the night staff of the Ped Ward. A few nurses giggled and an intern blushed as I kissed him full on the lips. I broke away slightly and whispered in his ear, "Our baby's going home."

Mattie's room was fifteen feet from the desk but by the time we were a handful of feet away, we heard the voices. Several, chatting quietly. Instead of knocking or even looking in, Bruce swung the door open, of which collided with Dick's back. Before I could make Bruce apologize, I noticed that Jim had joined the bedside vigil and that Cassandra and Alfred were missing.

While I left Bruce on his own to talk with Dick, I joined those closer to Mattie. Barbara smiled and reached for my hand. I bit my lip quickly then squeezed her slender digits and then reached over and touched Jim's arm, "Thanks for coming."

He nodded as he looked down at her. Even with all of the commotion about her she was still sleeping quietly. The last few days had been exhausting for her, with her coughing and inability to catch her breath worsening more so over night. Now, in the comfort of medication, she was at peace.

I spoke suddenly, "We just caught her doctor on his way out. She is set to be discharged tomorrow."

"That's great," Barbara grinned, "Everything has been cleared up?"

"He set her up with a medicine routine to help keep her comfortable and to balance her breathing. We've already called in for new HEPA filters to be installed in the house to reduce the dust and allergens. Help prevent as much as possible."

"What about Isis?" Barbara asked suddenly.

I sighed, "She'll have to be contained in our quarters, kept away from Mattie."

The room went quiet as Bruce suddenly appeared at my side. He offered a weak smile to each of the Gordon's and then glanced down his daughter. I hadn't noticed until then, but she had woken, her blue eyes amazingly cleared as she looked back at her father. She smiled, yawned, and raised her hands towards the sky. We all watched on as he carefully lifted her up and held her against his broad chest. Not even a full second in his arms and she whispered quietly, "Dah-ie."

He kissed her forehead gently and then looked over at me.

Dick then stepped between us, wrapping an arm around both us, "Whole gang's almost here. All we're missing is---."

"Master Dick, I do believe referring to your family as the 'gang' is hardly considered as proper affection," Alfred harrumphed from behind us.

We all turned to see him and Cassandra carrying several brown paper bags, which emitted a delicious aroma of deli goods. Dick spun on his heel and leapt at them, mumbling about rye and special sauce. Alfred shooed him away in order to properly set the bags on the small table in the corner. Cassandra held a soda can and wore a smile on her face.

With a mouthful of food, Dick spoke, "Now all we need is Tim and it'll be a real party."

As if on cue, a knock rapped on the door and a young male voice asked, "Did someone say party?"

"Tim!" Cassandra blurted then covered her mouth.

I glanced at the boy, "What are you doing here?"

"Can't be having a family crisis without the whole family," he said as he entered the room. He had a small stuffed bear in his hand that had a sewn on doctor's smock with "Get Well Soon" embroidered on its stomach. He stepped next to Bruce and waved the bear at Mattie, "This is for you."

She let go of Bruce's shirt and reached for it, "Bay-er."

She almost dropped it but Tim caught it and handed it to Bruce to hold it for her.

Before we could sit back and enjoy the bounty Alfred had returned with, Jim's pager beeped quietly from his belt. He retrieved it and read the display, a frown coming over his face. Barbara looked up at her father, "Dad, what is it?"

He sighed and began pulling his coat tighter around him, "Duty calls."

"Take some food with you," I offered.

He shook his head and patted a nearly flat stomach, "Nah, I'll catch something at the office. Well, I'm glad everything turned out okay, call if you need anything."

"We will, Jim, thanks," I replied.

To make sure everyone had a place to sit, I had Dick and Tim retrieve few spare chairs from the lounge down the hall. We began to eat around quarter after, except Bruce who was content to feed Mattie a bottle of cool water and then held her as she fell asleep in his arms.

At ten-thirty nine, I saw a great white light sear the Gotham skyline.

Dick jerked when he saw it as did Tim. Cassandra was already halfway out the door by the time her older partners had begun to rise. Barbara bagged what was left of her club sandwich and followed the others into the hall, casually as if they had just finished visiting.

I looked at Bruce as he stared down at Mattie. Her tiny fingers were wrapped around one of his as he held her. After a long minute of silence, he looked up at me and for the first time I saw uncertainty in his eyes.

"Go, Bruce."

"You're sure?"

"Are you?"

"Why are you answering me with questions?"

"Why, is it bothering you?" I grinned as I rose and approached him.

"Why would it bother me?" he replied, a smirk on his lips.

I kissed his cheek, "Go, Bruce. I'll sit with her."

He stood slowly, and looked out to the sky before returning his eyes to my face. We transferred her to my arms and he leaned and kissed my lips, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"And in as few pieces as possible," I added.

He kissed my cheek, "I'll try."

V

I had been paged to come back to HQ and had made my way back as quickly as possible. Although he had been standing right next to me in that child's hospital room, I had not wanted to disturb his time with his daughter. On any other case I wouldn't have even given it a second thought and would have let him be with his family, but the display had read: ASAP Jim, PI back in GC!

Once at my office, the phone rang just as I had made my way through the door. It had been a D-II named Mark Davidson, who had been asked to call and give me the details of what went down.

I had put the phone down hardly a second before I had raced up the small set of stairs to the roof. After igniting the signal and losing a few seconds for a quick gaze at the light in the heavens, my cell phone chirped from my coat pocket. I fished it out and scanned the display quickly to see Barbara's name on it. I answered it, "Barbara?"

"Don't worry, he's on his way, thought I'd let you know."

And she hung up.

Wasn't I the popular one?

Pamela Isley had been transferred to a private mental institution for research purposes last spring. Nothing too bad about it, especially since her doctors had decided this change would be the best to allow her to use her knowledge to help instead of harm others.

Yeah, and the Joker could be rehabilitated to tell jokes at the Rotary luncheons.

Nearly a year later, Poison Ivy was missing.

And there was a dead banker in a penthouse on Mabry. Asphyxiation by fungal obstruction of the larynx. I had the phrase memorized from all of my entanglements with Isley. The special crimes unit was already at the scene as I waited on the rooftop for my companion to arrive. As I stood there, thinking of that red-headed murderer prowling my streets, my mind flashed to the image of Bruce holding Mattie out of my mind. The dark, powerful image of the Batman had been tainted, now more human rather than creature of the night. It was hard to see that man in the mask, bringing justice to cold-blooded and aloe-blooded killers alike.

Also, I thought, he was running on practically nothing after the last few weeks. The last thing he needed was to search for Isley as his daughter lay in a hospital bed.

No, I thought afterwards, he needed to know. No matter what had changed between us, he was still the Batman, still the protector of this city. And if there was something going on, he had to be made aware of it.

"Jim?" his voice growled from behind me.

When I turned, I saw his form against the light-lit sky. Across the street, I saw three more silhouettes standing motionlessly, capes billowing around them. I reached over and pulled the switch, darkening the rooftop. "Sorry to pull you away from things."

He grunted, urging for things to be moved along.

"Right to the point then," I informed him of the murder and the basic details surrounding Ivy's transfer.

He interrupted me, "I know about her relocation. How did she escape?"

"The usual. They laid back on her muscle relaxants and let their guard down. Her psychologist at the new hospital mysteriously fell in love with her and gave her keys to the building before receiving one last kiss."

He looked over at his troops, nodded ever so slightly, and they dispersed quickly, each leaving in a different direction. "The body still at the scene?"

"No, coroner wanted it ASAP, considering the cause of death. The fungal content had him worried about spores being spread. Even after all of the Ivy DB's he's seen, he still wants to be sure that it's not an airborne problem." I paused and fingered the pipe in my pocket, "If you want, I can meet you at the hotel."

"No need, just have everyone out."

"No problem, this late everyone's ready to go home..." I stopped because I knew he was gone.

The return to my office took much longer than the trip up to the roof. Not in the amount of time, but it just felt that way. Burdening others always seemed to put weight on my shoulders. Especially when I burdened him.

When I returned to my office, Renee Montoya was standing outside my door, her long, wool coat covering her slender form an her concealed weapon. I nodded at her as I approached and opened my door. I went over and sat on the corner of my desk as she shut the door behind her, "Did he show?"

I nodded again, "Yes, he's on his way over now."

"Good," she paused, "Well, I should get going."

Her words sparked a memory of mine, "I heard from payroll that you were taking a week off."

"Yeah, a friend of mine is getting married in Florida. I'm the bridesmaid."

"Congrats. Florida, hunh, must be sixty degrees there," I recalled the high for the week in Gotham was thirty, "Need any company?"

She laughed, and turned for the door, "See you next week, Jim."

"Have a great time, Renee."

The door had hardly closed when my phone rang.

I let it ring.

I just sat on my desk, staring out into the darkness out the window.

V


	14. Life Is Good: XIV

Title: Life Is Good: XIV

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

Men truly were the weaker sex.

No matter how macho or burly they tried to appear, men were hardly in control of anything beyond their favorite sports team. Women made them watch their weight, made them dress up, made them think dirty thoughts. Women caught their eye and made them suck in their guts to make themselves appear attractive.

Yuck.

It had all started with one man.

Dr. Peter Rosenblum, a divorced, chubby psychologist had been in charge of my "treatment" during my last incarceration at the lifeless Arkham Asylum. At first, I had behaved, mostly because the good doctor always wore his facemask to prohibit my pheromones from intoxicating him. That was until one warm April morning when I had killed the A/C vent after clogging it with fast growing weeds. He had removed the mask, trusting me after all of the progress I had achieved. Within ten minutes, he was ogling me and calling me "Lady Ivy." The weaker the will, the stronger the control I always had over them.

After a week and a half, he had arranged for me to be transferred to Arizona, more specifically to a mental institute and research facility in the middle of the desert. I was to aide in their projects and help with finding ways to cultivate and duplicate various effects of toxins from plants. Poor old Dr. Rosenblum was heart broken when I left in the transport van and had cried silently to himself. When I walked past him, I released an aroma of roses and his frown evolved into a content smile. After all, it was him who got me out of that hellhole to begin with, why would I have wanted to end things badly?

After playing along for a year, slowly enticing control of every faculty member at that quaint stucco facility in Arizona, I had keys to every major exit in addition to numerous faculty vehicles, who had made spares just for little old me. Although hardly any better than Arkham, that research facility had lots of windows and lots of light.

But it was still a cage.

The escape had been the easy part, walking past doctors and orderlies and having them completely oblivious while under a touch of my toxic spell. I had even had the receptionist bring me a nice pantsuit to wear for the "big day." No need to be trying to travel across the nation in a beige scrub suit with a number branded on it. Upon the last door, a beefy security guard, who had taken quite a long time to warm up to me, held the door open.

I smiled, paused and stood up and kissed his cheek.

He blushed instantly and grinned, "You have a nice trip, Ms. Isely."

The only good man was a tamed one.

The trip back to my home had been rather uneventful. Numerous flights, fake ID's and layovers allowed for a rather relaxing journey. The money I used had been given to me by a dreamy eyed resident who broke into the chief of staff's office. Five thousand cash that was there every Friday for a faculty poker game. I had never been so glad that men obsessed over gambling as I had been when I saw all of those bills.

On the last flight of the trek, from Detroit to Gotham City, I had been seated in first class next to a rather interesting gentleman. He had seemed uneasy around me and eyed me cautiously. At first I thought that he had recognized me but then I saw a swelling in his pants that suggested his discomfort was out of attraction, not fear.

Men.

I started out casual, asking who he was, where he was from, what he did and so forth. William Wrightman, a native to Columbus, Ohio and it turned out he was the new manager for the National Bank of Gotham. Jackpot, I thought to myself as I asked about his marital status. As he went on about rugged details of a divorce, I released seductive pheromones and scents that had him under my control within moments. Apparently, he had a penthouse waiting for him at the Roxbury on Mabry Avenue.

"How splendid," I commented as I traced a twitching muscle of his arm through his suit coat.

After grabbing my nearly empty valise from baggage claim, I walked with him to his waiting limo and climbed in first as he held the door open for me. My control over others had always been an added bonus of my toxic touch, one I never took for granted. That was until someone defied my control and pissed me off.

His penthouse had been on the twenty-fifth floor and was decorated in heavy red silks, from the drapes to the bed sheets. I was pleased to see that no plants had been sacrificed and drowned in a vase, a cruel welcoming gift that many seemed to enjoy. Although it was eight in the evening, I decided that enough time had been wasted and it was time for me to get to work.

I lead poor Will to the master bedroom, excitement and anticipation coursing through his veins. I had been deadpan but he hadn't noticed. After he obeyed my order to get on the bed, I slowly unbuttoned my top and shimmied up next to him. His breath failed him and I smiled, realizing how easy it was going to be. I moved my leg over his and straddled him, looking down at his mesmerized features.

"Will, where are the keys to the bank?"

"Um, in my coat pocket," he replied as I lowered my torso closer to his.

"And the security code?"

He paused, almost reluctant and then replied, "6-30-85, my anniversary with my ex. It's the same for the locks and the vault."

"Thank you my love," I whispered in his ear before facing him and kissing him full on the lips. His excitement surged and I felt the muscles of his entire body go rigid as his one arm embraced me. I released more toxins through my saliva and smiled as the muscles quivered beneath me. Then grew very still.

After a quick peck on his cheek, I pushed him away and retrieved the keys. I redressed, cleaned up a bit and then made my way to the bank. Seeing there was roughly fifty million dollars on hand, there were four guards, all of them screaming body builder.

But even the strongest of men couldn't resist me.

Nor the smartest.

It was just after I had begun to plant fast growing plants about the stone and marble interior of the bank that I saw it out of a small window. The Bat Signal. Well that wasn't very long, it had hardly been an hour since I had killed the banker. Had someone called from Arizona, warning of my return? I had intoxicated all of the employees well enough to cover the two-week time span I had planned on being gone. The over all goal was to walk in and out of that facility whenever I needed to get some cash or to make a point in the world and then be able to return in order to verify my alibi. My return to Gotham had been solely for the money and to find stashed resources of plant seeds and other materials.

And maybe perhaps deep down I wanted to see him again.

Whenever we had quarreled in the past, it had ended awkwardly. He would have saved my life or I would have saved his. And more often than not we would kiss. No, I would kiss him and he would rear back, violently searching for his little antidote that hardly worked at all. In fact, I never really poisoned him seriously, maybe to instill a bit of a cough to think that his chemicals really worked.

He was after all the right man, just not for me.

As I stared at the signal in the sky, I smiled to myself.

Men were the weaker sex, but "Bat" men were another story all together.

Of all the kisses, either for "hello" or "I love you", nothing compared to a "good-bye".

V

"You said he was where?" I asked Oracle as I tapped on my comm.. link ear piece. Probably needed to be replaced but I had things to do other than drive all the way out to the Cave, break in, and install a new link device.

"Mabry. He's heading over to the scene of a 247, that's what Dad was called back to HQ for," she replied, annoyance seething in her voice. We had both been up for more than thirty hours and it wasn't doing anything good to our usually cheery dispositions.

"Okay, where on Mabry, it's kind of a big street."

She sighed, "Roxbury, should be floor numero twenty-five, but go through the back window, no crime scene tape is up back there."

"How do you know?" I asked as I shot a line to a fire escape across the street.

"He told me, he's been there for almost a ha-en-er..."

"What?"

"Half and hour, your link rusty?"

"Must be," I commented as I tapped on it again.

"Wouldn't be surprising, all of you boys wreck toys the second you get them."

"You like surprises though," I commented as I leapt across an alley, catching a glance down below at a small woman feeding cats on her terrace.

"Um, no, I am all about the predictable nature of the male species."

And then silence.

In the quiet of the night, I slowly made my way to the scene, my thoughts keeping me company when no one else seemed to want to. Batgirl and Robin had resumed normal patrols so that Batman could handle the situation with Poison Ivy. I was left without a purpose in Gotham.

But I most definitely had one at home.

Bruce's return to the mantle had allowed me to return to a somewhat normal life back in Bludhaven. I still came to help out in Gotham as Batman reacquainted himself with his city and of course to drop in on Barbara whenever possible. We had a few dates in the last month and none had been interrupted by chat about Batman or work or anything other than how good it was to just be normal. My promotion at work had earned me some attention and appreciation. My caseloads weren't noticeably different and Amy and I still worked quite a bit together. There had been talk that I was going to be getting a rookie of my own to train in May. Fun fun fun.

So the main reason I was seeking Batman was...?

I wanted his permission to leave.

I was a grown man, not a fifth grader wanting to go to the movies.

Barbara had been right, and not only was the back window free form the "Crime Scene, No Trespassing" tape, but it was also slightly ajar. After increasing my night vision, I maneuvered through the rear hallway, noticing that it was frighteningly similar to those of Wayne Manor. Massive oil prints cradled in carved wooden frames, plush carpet the color of coagulated blood. After fifty feet of cautious steps, I noticed a light spilling out into the hall from a half opened door. After hearing the soft mumblings of the World's Greatest Detective's gravelly voice, I walked in quietly.

He was hunched over the carpet, misting the floor with a small bottle of Luminol. Even though I hadn't made a sound, I spoke firmly, "Hit the lights."

I did so and watched as he scanned the carpet with a blue light. Nothing glowed in response to the chemical spray, suggesting that no blood or body fluids were present. After he nodded, I turned the lights back on and reduced my night vision completely. "No luck?"

He growled, "I found some fluids in the bathroom carpet, but there were no residue indicating Ivy's presence."

Residue as in that sweet smelling aroma of pheromones that follows her wherever she goes. A sweet, seductive smell that had caught my attention more than I would care to admit.

As he rose and returned his tools to a compartment on his belt, I took a glance of the bed. The crime scene crew had already been over it, evident of a few "Evidence" tags and numbers. An outline where the late William Wrightman had laid was done in masking tape on the bed, where all sheets, blankets and pillows had already been removed. The bed itself was massive, a king sized four-posted beast that dominated a majority of the room. Regency nightstands flanked the bed's headboard and sported two glass lamps with red silk shades that offered a pinkish haze.

I chided with myself that it was the cream of the Honeymooner's suites, minus the hear shaped pillows of course.

It had been less than an hour since the body was discovered by a housekeeper who had noticed the door to be ajar, and the CS officers had scanned quickly, taken what they wanted and were back at the office, sitting and pondering why Poison Ivy had to kill someone on their shift.

Although most cops were happy when they were handed a case where a major member of the rouge's gallery was the prime suspect. Then the burden of solving it was on the vigilantes, not theirs. Ah the glory of having higher solve rates than those that are paid to do the same thing...

I was just about to open my mouth when Batman stated, "You can go."

No, not stated, ordered.

"I was---," I began.

He interrupted as he faced me, "You have other engagements that are more pressing. Your own city. You own cases to solve."

"Batman if you need anything I can stay," I said as I stepped towards him.

His face was its same solemn self. I had learned over the years how to tell which of his looks meant certain emotions. This one was loud and clear: tired, frustrated and concerned. And also not in the mood for company. Especially from me.

I nodded and then turned away without another word. No need for words.

I had half expected that he would follow me into the hall, make some sort of failed apology and then ask me to look in on something or to contact the rest of the gang. Then who had I been fooling, he was who he was and short of a miracle he wasn't about to change.

After I had made my way to my motorcycle, I connected to Oracle with a press of a button, so to speak, "O?"

"You rang, Toy Wonder?"

I smiled a bit as I got on the cycle, "Yeah, so I'm heading out, need anything?"

"Um, if you really loved me you would go and buy me some ice cream."

"What flavor?"

"Surprise me," she said softly.

"I thought you didn't like surprises," I smiled, recalling our earlier conversation.

"That was of the male species, when it comes to frozen goods, unpredictability is key. But make sure it has chocolate in it."

Yes, ma'am.

V

For being sidekicks, we sure weren't working alongside our mentor.

Batgirl and I had headed out after Oracle, not Batman, had informed us about the crime of the evening. Poison Ivy, a villain I had little experience with, had killed a bank manager. Got it. But were we involved with the search for her? Of course not, we were stuck doing patrols on lifeless streets where the criminals had conveniently decided to stay in for the night.

Yeah for low crime rates and bored to death sidekicks.

I had almost stayed at school, but for some reason I just couldn't live myself if I had. The family was under duress. Plus Ivy added a nice touch of chaos to the already mangled mess. After classes ended, I set up my phone so the calls would be forwarded to my cell and had then proceeded to "sneak" out on my roomie and then I was Gotham bound.

Seeing Mattie well was a good start to the evening. From what Barb had told me, she was quite ill, especially if she had to be hospitalized. But stepping to that room and seeing her in Bruce's arms, a soft smile on her face, had made the whole trip worthwhile. That and the random flash of the Signal.

"Rain."

I turned around to see Batgirl staring up at a cloudless sky, "What are you talking about?" I asked suddenly.

"Rain," she pointed upwards, "Was supposed to rain."

"Oh, well I'm glad it didn't I hate wearing a wet suit. Makes me squeak."

She tilted her head and then scanned the horizon of the city.

Insert awkward silence.

Over the last few years, Cass and I had developed a partnership. Not a romance one, but then again something more than just a friendship. I knew from watching others that it was no way kosher to develop relationships within the super hero community, for when the inevitable break up arrived, everything that followed was just too angsty for my tastes. Then again, I look at Dick and Barb and they seemed to have been the exception to the "Don't Date Crime Fighters If You're One Too" rule. They took forever to get together but ever since, they've been the coolest couple I've ever known. They still work like a natural pair, get all cutesy and whatnot and have fights about the littlest things.

Just like Bruce and Selina, too.

Although Selina was a far cry from a crime fighter, and Bruce broke any rule laid out before him.

With my mind somewhat focused, I connected to Barb, "O?"

"Why can't you people say the whole thing?"

I smiled, "Sorry, Oracle, Great and Powerful Being That Resides in Thy Clocktower."

"Much better. What do you need?"

"Direction."

"Excuse me?" she asked after a beat.

I glanced down towards the street after hearing a few car honks. I had hoped for a problem, but it had been a few guys driving around and had decided to signal at the local diner.

"Well it's pretty quiet, and we would like to do something other than have staring contests with the gargoyles."

"What are they still beating you?"

I didn't even humor her with a reply.

She said to check out some parts in Chelsea and said he would contact us if we were needed elsewhere. With a sigh, I transferred the orders to Batgirl and we trudged onward, hoping for at least some fifth graders to be out causing a ruckus. Not even ten blocks later, I had an idea.

"Batgirl, what was that bank?"

"The victim's?" she tried to confirm.

"Yeah, wasn't it National?"

She nodded, and I smirked a bit, "Wouldn't hurt to drop by see if anything's going on."

A quick peek through the skylight couldn't do much harm. And even still I would take trouble over boredom any day of the week. A nice balance between the two always made for a happy Robin.

Batgirl tagged behind by ten yards, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of crime. That was the problem when we were too good at our jobs. We had nothing to do. We had to make something to do. And worrying about life and school and Mattie and everything else was not very constructive.

Of course the quick peek through the skylight had showed more than lazy security guards wandering about. It showed countless plants, trees, vines and flowers engulfing the one bare and stone dominated main lobby. Either they had decided to redecorate since the last time I had made a deposit or Poison Ivy had decided to make herself at home. I signaled for Batgirl to step back so I could quietly notify Barb about the situation. In all hopes, Batman already knew and was down below apprehending the red headed rogue.

V

Not good.

Not good at all.

Robin had called Oracle but decided to go in and look around, to see if Ivy was there. If anything else, we could plant bugs to monitor what was going on.

It was scary, with all of the plants moving and growing right before our eyes. It was like something in a movie, not real life. Robin made sure we both had our air filter masks on in case there were toxins in the air. He said with Ivy you could never be too safe. We had toured half of the lobby when we found the guards.

Four men, standing uneasily in the far corner. I thought of Ivy's poison touch and rushed over to help. In our belts, Batman had supplied an antidote to the spells that she cast, but it was not one hundred percent. Hence the masks as an added precaution.

Robin was at my side as we approached the guards and as the tallest of them turned towards us, I knew. She controlled them. Before I could flee or push Robin out of the way, the men scrambled and clawed at out capes, quickly closing in on us. We tried to get way but four hundred pounds of guards were aimed at both of us.

I sensed her before actually seeing her. There was a distinct aroma and the guards all shifted slightly, from mindless zombies to mindless men infatuated with a woman.

She walked around us, observing carefully before removing our belts and masks. I strained against the men who held me, not about to lose to her. Their muscles bunched and squeezed the breath from my chest. Just like Freeze all over again, I thought as my head went light.

And then a slight tickling at my feet brought me back to full attention.

Batman had demonstrated digitally what the fast growing vines looked like and how to best avoid their grasp. Unfortunately, being held in place as they wove themselves around me in addition to having my knife and acid in my missing belt didn't help much.

Ever since I had caught on to reading, I scanned a vast majority of the files on the computers in the Cave. The best way to defeat an enemy is to know them and their weaknesses. The only ones listed for Poison Ivy had been to knock her unconscious and prevent contact with her skin and her plants.

Well so far one out of two.

I caught Robin's eyes as the guards released and let the plants take full control. He wasn't worried at all and winked at me. We were in the wrath of killing vines and he was almost smirking.

How many times had he been a hostage?

I didn't care, it wasn't good at all.

Despite the fact that I would never be able to break the bonds, I pushed against them and tried to will my freedom. No good, for when I relaxed the vines tightened themselves.

Batman would surely come to the bank after observing the crime scene, but when would that be?

And most surely he wouldn't be able to walk right in, free us, defeat the guards and take down Ivy all by himself. Especially after two weeks of no rest and his mind not entirely focused on his work. How could it be, Mattie was sick.

Ivy paused in front of Robin, smiled at him, "Look at you, no longer a little birdie, are you? Practically a grown man..."

His only response was an unwavering glare.

But I knew what Ivy could do, her control over people.

I didn't want her to do it to him.

Or anyone else.

I had to do something.

Sitting as bait for Batman was not an option.

"Leave him... alone," I growled without thought.

Her head twitched towards me as she took three slow steps, "Excuse me?" I watched with wide eyes as she removed a green silk glove and pointed at me, "You are in no position to give orders, kid."

I wasn't.

But he was.

We all looked up at the sound of shattering glass as Batman crashed through the skylights just in time to save us.

Ivy raised her arms over her head, protective her red hair from the shower of glass particles. Her face was filled with pure rage and I made out her lips as she spoke silently: No, not yet.

Not yet for what?

After the initial shock of his entrance, the hypnotized guards went leapt at him, their massive fists ready to pummel something. I silently rooted him on, my lips smirking softly with every blow that he landed in his defense and then offense.

With his decades of training, the guards were hardly any problem for within second they had been defeated and laid unconscious on the cool floor.

It was Ivy he had to worry about.

V

I almost had gone back to the 'Mobile.

Almost.

Instead, I followed the gut yearning to head over the bank. Ivy had stolen the keys of the late bank manager, most likely to break in and clean out the vaults. Even if she hadn't been able to get the security codes, her living plants were more than able to bust in through the reinforced steel door of the vault.

And for the sake of Robin and Batgirl's lives, it was fortunate that I had.

By the time I had taken out Ivy's protectors, four innocent men who had fallen to her power. Instead of binding them, I simply delivered powerful chops to the back of their heads, a quick nap that would wake up in pain in a few hours. They had only landed a few hits during the fight; one smart one to the abdomen would be nicely bruised in the morning. But that didn't matter.

As I rose and glanced at my young partners bound bodies and the looks of fear that graced their faces, I felt her presence. I could feel her gaze, smell her aroma and hear her soft footsteps.

"I always thought Romeo was supposed to scale the wall to see his love, not break in through the window," her voice was heavy with control and seduction.

I turned, fronting her with as much as a stonewall face as I could muster. I had put on my protective breathing mask upon seeing the foliage form the rooftop, a key sign of Ivy's presence. Even if she had come and gone, there had still been the chance that her plants would take me on.

After a deep breath, I spoke, "Release them Ivy."

"Why, just because you say so?" she asked as she sauntered closer. When there was a space of ten feet between us, she stopped and glanced over at Robin and Batgirl. With a twitch of her brow the plants tightened their hold on them, causing their bodies to strain against the vines.

"Yes," I growled, my arms tightening beneath my cape.

She licked her lips, "I would do it, you know," she paused, and I knew had then known what her next words were, "For a kiss."

I heard a mumbled from behind me and foolishly chanced a glance. For just as my eyes locked onto Batgirl's I felt the oddly warm tentacles of vines growing about my ankles. I stepped back instantly, reaching for my knife to cut them away. The more I sliced the faster they grew. Within seconds, my arms were plastered to my sides and I did all I could do to keep breathing as they circumnavigated my torso.

The entire time, Ivy stood motionlessly, a sly smile on her face. After the vines had encapsulated me, she blinked slowly and approached me one step at a time. "Looks like you've lost control over the situation. Pity. Whatever am I going to do with you now?"

A gloved hand reached up and removed my filtration mask. Fresh air richly scented filled my nostrils. As I grew lightheaded, I knew I had gotten a full dose of pheromones. They never caused the ogling syndromes that were common in "normal" people. It wasn't tolerance from our many encounters; in my eyes attraction wasn't physical, it was mental. And if the object of my affection found out about Ivy taunting me, it would get very physical.

With my right hand, I was able to feel the edge of my utility belt. However, I was unable to move it to reach the antidote inhalant I had created to protect myself from the poisonous kiss that was most likely on its way.

So my only defense was to stare down at her as she spoke softly, so that the other trapped individuals in the room couldn't hear, "You could have taken me down when you had the chance."

I replied, "You could have left with the money."

She bit her lip before continuing, "Touché. Well, I couldn't step foot in Gotham without seeing you. Without saying good bye."

As she widened her green eyes, the back of my mind reminded me of her obsessions. Of her desires. She had long since romanticized the idea that we were made for each other, delusions of the insane tended to do that. It had climaxed several years back when I had saved her life from millionaire Christopher De Jardin who had tried to shoot her in revenge. She had said then that I couldn't have taken that bullet for her if I hadn't loved her. I couldn't get it through her crazed mind that no one deserved to die, even criminals.

I felt a hand on my chest and was brought back to the current.

She had removed her gloves and had begum to trace the contours of my suit. As long as she touched the suit and not my skin, I could have cared less.

I heard the faint growls and thrashing behind me and knew Robin was violently trying to escape. I wanted to tell him to be still, to not fight it but Ivy's fingers cupped my chin. My skin burned from where she gently traced the part of my exposed jaw. Not with pain, but warmth. Electricity.

Despite my efforts I could no look away form Ivy's eyes. I tried to picture Selina and Mattie and everything else except for her endless green eyes. So deep and passionate...

"Good bye my love."

Her lips were fire on mine, sending a jolt of energy through my body. My control was completely lost as she kissed me, not allowing for any form of retreat. I put all of my will into focus and clamped my lips and jerked my head back.

She withdrew briefly, her face flushed and angered.

It was then I realized that no toxins had passed into my system.

Not yet.

She kissed me again, this time the heat of her lips passed through my pharynx and deep within my lungs. I could feel my chest closing up and could do nothing to stop it. Somewhere, I thought this was what you got for pissing off a murderer with poisonous skin.

And then I thought this was a foolish way to die.

And then I thought nothing at all.

V

I woke alone in bed.

After heavy prodding and lots of "please" 's, I convinced Mattie's doctor to release her early. After a quick stop at a twenty-four hour pharmacy and the drive home, my daughter and I were sprawled on my bed by 12:30. Once she had settled, I tucked her away in bed, still antsy about leaving her alone.

After a hot bath and change into warm pajamas, I got into bed, read for a while and then optioned for some sleep.

At one-fifteen, Dick called and said they were on their way home. And that they needed Alfred in the sick bay.

Apparently, Poison Ivy had decided to take her frustrations out on Batman's mouth, literally. Robin and Batgirl had been completely bonded and were unable to save him once "things" had started. But, as usual, it was the original Boy Wonder who had saved the day. Using the very skylight his mentor had broke moments earlier, Nightwing had leapt into the bank, landed on Ivy feet first and had stopped the toxic kiss before Batman asphyxiated.

Leslie had checked him out and had declared that no permanent damage would be suffered and that as long as he took antibiotics and anti-fungal throat sprays, he would live to fight another day. In the mean time, he would have the worst case of bronchitis in the history of mankind.

I found my robe and checked in on Mattie. Alfred greeted me, surprisingly, and said he had already begun to care for her. I asked about her meds and he had stated, "Although she has Master Bruce's blood in her veins, she took them quite nicely and without a fuss."

I kissed her forehead, Alfred's cheek and had left for the sick ward.

Since he would be ill for a week or so, it was decided that Bruce should have his own room so that everyone else in the house would be able to sleep. Even when I was ten feet away from the door, I heard his coughing fits loud and clear.

Quietly, I opened the door and peered inside. Bruce was bare-chested and half covered on a queen-sized bed. The muscles of his back quivered with each cough. I felt instant pity for him as I approached, "Bruce?"

He hacked a bit and then replied hoarsely, "I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you were, dear."

I walked into the attached bathroom and cooled a washcloth. When I returned to his bedside, he had rolled onto his back and had regained somewhat normal breathing. I placed the cloth on his sweaty brow, and then sat on the bed next to him. As he drew ragged breaths, I traced the veins of his arms. He flinched and tried to push me away.

"How's," he coughed, "Mattie?"

"Fine," I replied as I touched the stubble of his face. His eyes were completely closed as if sleeping but were scrunched in pain. Poor guy, I thought before continuing, "Alfred's with her now, said she took her medicine like a trooper."

He nodded slowly and wheezed.

A thought suddenly came to mind and I grinned. After leaning over and kissing Bruce's cheek I said, "Guess I traded in one sick baby for another."

He hacked and then growled, "I'm not a baby," he paused, "And I'm hardly si- ACK!" he couldn't continue.

I kissed him again on the other cheek, "Whatever you say dear. Do you need anything?"

He rolled away from me and wrapped his arms around his most likely sore diaphragm, "No."

"Fine, be that way, baby." I rose and left him to be miserable by himself.

Just as I reached the door, he mumbled, "Maybe some water. And a straw."

"Yes, Bruce, I'll get you water ad a straw. Ice?"

"Chips, not cubes," he managed.

I took another step before he added, "And some applesauce" a cough then, "With cinnamon."

As much as I wanted to pick on him for being a baby, I knew he was struggling.

And as much as I loved him, there was no way I was going to waste all of those jokes on him when I could have an audience to chuckle with.

V


	15. Life Is Good: XV

Title: Life Is Good: XV

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

Our dinner reservations were for eight.

As I stood out in the hall at the head of the stairs, my watch clearly showed it to be eight-eighteen. I had let him put Mattie to bed, thinking how it would help him feel that she was safely tucked away and not in any trouble. Alfred and Leslie were going to be at the house until we returned, since Cassie was in town staying at Barbara's and eagerly awaiting patrol. Even still he couldn't let her go.

With a sigh, I tucked back a straying lock of hair and walked back towards Mattie's room. Bruce had been with her for nearly a half of an hour, having gotten ready for dinner long before I had. Dressed in one of his finest black three-piece suits, he looked sharper than ever with a clean- shaven jaw and a recent haircut that revealed a few more grays than he had hoped for. Bruce sat in the rocking chair, Mattie nestled in his arms and wrapped in a pale blue blanket, moving slowly in unison. Back and forth, back and forth. His voice was quiet and soothing and I listened with a faint smile on my face.

"Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree, up went pussycat, and down went he. Down came pussy, and away Robin ran; says little Robin Redbreast, 'Catch me if you can!'..." he paused to touch her hand gently, "Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall, pussy cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall. Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say? Pussy cat said, "Mew," and Robin jumped away."

She yawned soundlessly as her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger. He looked up at me and nodded before slowly rising out of the chair. I walked over, kissed her brow and then his cheek, "Ready?"

"Yeah," he pressed his lips over the spot I had just kissed on our daughter's forehead and then gently placed her in the crib. Once she was adequately nestled, he checked the baby monitor six times to be sure that it was on and then guided me out of the room with a hand on my back.

Just as we made it to the side door, Alfred appeared asking if Mattie had been settled in for the night, Bruce updated him on the last time she had been fed and changed. After I started tapping my foot, he glanced over in my direction, and then said to Alfred, "We'll be at Gerondol's, call if you need us."

With that Alfred turned to leave the room and I hooke my arm with Bruce's, dragging him to the garage, "Come on, Bruce, I'll even let you drive."

Traffic was light for the beginning of the weekend and we made good time. After twelve minutes of soft music in the car and no conversation, I leaned over in my seat and rested my head on his shoulder. He looked down at me and relaxed the muscles of his arm slightly as he steered cautiously.

After two months of normal life, as in him being gone twenty hours a day and asleep or playing with Mattie whenever he was home, I had asked him out on a date. He had been at work and I had called him during his lunch break, even though I knew he wasn't eating anything. He claimed to be heading just out the door when I had put Mattie on the phone.

She had babbled at him for five minutes, telling him her favorite colors and elaborated on what toy she was holding. I had heard his replies and encouragements whenever she pronounced words correctly. She signed off with "Luvie dahie" and dropped the phone as Isis walked by. I salvaged it and asked how his day was going.

And then asked him out for a night of dinner and dancing.

He had grumbled, relented the fact that he was very busy and after a moment of silence he said, "How's Friday?"

As I smiled, thinking back on the phone call, he shifted the car into third and took the Downtown exit that would lead us over the bridge and into the city. I looked at the city skyline and grinned to see no sign of helicopters, Bat-signals or any other indication of crime happening.

Sorry, Gotham, Batman's mine for now.

He sighed and I tickled the back of his neck. He smirked, tried to brush me away and then shrugged a bit before asking, "What?"

"Nothing. Can't say I don't mind the haircut, nice and short."

He grumbled, "Summer time, needs to be short."

"Little itchy under the cowl, eh?"

He nodded, "Never understood how you did it all those years, you had ten times the hair I had."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Women tolerate things better than men, what can I say?"

He laughed quietly before his face went slack. I felt Bruce's shoulder bunch suddenly as his gaze locked straight ahead. He pushed me back into my seat and then down shifted suddenly and swerved to the right. I was about to ask what was wrong before I saw it for myself.

The car was heading straight at us. Large black SUV going the wrong way on a three lane one-way street with three police cars in grand pursuit. Bruce swore loudly as fellow drivers, who were blindly trying to avoid the oncoming vehicle, boxed him in. He was bumped slightly from the car behind us and was put centrally in the middle lane. My breath was trapped in my chest as I locked eyes with the driver in the pursued car just before impact.

The music of Plexiglas shattering, metal crunching and tires squealing echoed forever in my head.

When I opened my eyes, I felt a crushing pain in my chest as the airbag exploded and enveloped me. My face burned and I felt shattered glass scrape my arms. After an eternity, I let the air out of my lungs and leaned back against my seat, my left hand reaching over to touch Bruce...

"Bruce?" I coughed as I felt and empty seat beside me. The air smelt of smoke and burnt rubber. At first I thought he had been thrown forward, against the steering wheel, but it was still empty. It took a full minute to realize Bruce was no longer beside me.

And another five seconds before sheer panic took over me.

V

"Nice Scan-master, commish," Harvey commented as he leaned against the doorframe of my office. He smirked as he watched me tinker with the new scanner Barbara had gotten me for my birthday. It received over 5000 frequencies and doubled as an emergency radio. Not too shabby, for it being high technology and all.

After programming a few most used frequencies in, I set it to the standard police one and listened in. There was a police chase on the off ramp of St. James going northbound on a southbound road. The 45th Precinct was on in it, in addition to the Highway Patrol and Air Search. But it was still my city and still my problem.

Just as I sat on the edge of my desk, a transmission came through, "This is 345 requesting EMS, mile marker 103 on St. James South. 345 requesting medical at mile marker 103 on St. James South. Two vehicle MVA, head on collision, suspect was involved in accident, three victims total..."

And then the response from Emergency Services, "345, this is Emergency Dispatch, we have two units en route, ETA 10 minutes. Request for medical acknowledged, please advise, suspect will be transported to Mercy."

"Damn, missed that, woulda love ta seen that SOB take a header, you hear he nearly ran over two officers going through that road block?" Harvey commented as he pushed a toothpick into his mouth.

Montoya stepped up beside him, "Harv, that perp just collided with civilians, I don't see how that would have been amusing."

He frowned, "Still, I hope he got banged up enough to think about what he done," and then walked away.

Montoya shook her head and followed her partner back down the hall. Although they were nearly true opposites, Detectives Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya were the most finely tuned detective machines in the city. One pair I would never want to see lost to the crookedness that shattered the backbone of the department years ago.

I decided to file a few over due reports, look over prospective applicants and a portion of the mountain of mail that had been on my desk all week. Ten minutes after the scanner had sputtered the request for medical, it came to life once more, "Unit 12 to Mercy, Unit 12 to Mercy."

"Come in Unit twelve," was the response.

I reached over to turn the volume down but still listened, "Two victims on the scene, third will be DOA. First is a thirty seven year-old white male, projected through the windshield of the car, landed fifteen feet from the scene, severe head, chest and abdominal trauma, some arterial wounds to the face and arms. Pulse 120, Resp 25, Temp 100, pupils reactive but sluggish..."

My phone rang and I answered on the second ring as the medics went on about the human damage that creep had caused.

"Gordon here."

"J-Jim... Oh, god, Jim..." a ragged female voice spoke.

"Who is this?" I asked, thinking a prank call.

"Bruce, oh, god, Jim..." and then a muffled voice in the background, some sirens, "Ma'am, we need to get you in the ambulance. You need to hang up, now."

"Wait, who is this? Selina?"

"Jim, he's gone."

And then a dial tone.

I turned towards the scanner as my jaw dropped upon hearing the medics final remarks, "---thirty five year-old white female, flash burns from airbag, minimal head trauma, some lacerations to the face and arms, stable vitals, conscious but in shock. Pulse..."

I shut it off and frantically dialed Bruce's cell phone number.

Instead of his smooth baritone message, an operator's nasal voice responded, "The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please call back and try again later."

I hung up and called Selina's number. Similarly, no one answered that was human. Unsure as what to do, I ended up calling Barbara, praying the entire time that she was already situated in her Oracle station and had heard of the accident.

She answered her home number on the third ring, "Dad? What's wrong?"

"Honey, please, just listen to me. Where are Bruce and Selina?"

"Why?"

"Barbara, where are they?" I barked.

She paused, "Selina had called earlier, said they were going out to dinner in town. Dad, what's going on?"

I hung up on her and stared out my window. The only way into town from the Bristol Bridge was to take St. James. St. James South. I called into dispatch, pulled rank and had them tell me what the make, model and owner of the second vehicle was in the accident.

"Sure, thing Commish, was a hot ride too. Crunched now, though, let's see... 2004 Black Mercedes, SLK Class sedan, License plate BWE – 526, registered to... Wayne, Bruce. Holy shit, commis---."

I hung up on him, unintentionally when I dropped the phone on the floor, resulting in the cord being pulled out of the receiver. No, it wasn't possible. I wouldn't believe it until I saw it for myself. I grabbed my keys and coat and dashed for the elevator, my mind trying to come up with any reason for Bruce and Selina to not have been in that car. It was stolen, he had lent it to a friend, he had sold it recently...

Anything to get my mind off the fact that one of the two male victims had died and that Selina's last words to me had been "he's gone."

V

We had been watching some movie about horses and cowboys when the phone had rung. Barbara answered and from her tone and words I knew it was her father.

The Commissioner.

They talked about where they were. Out to dinner. A night off, sort of. He had said he would be late for patrols but I didn't mind. More fun for me.

Barbara hung up and stared at me, "That was weird, Dad wanted to know where Bruce and Selina were. Sounded too upset for it to be anything good. Turn it to channel 3, the news will be on if something's up."

I sighed, stopped the movie just as it was getting to be interesting and turned the cable on. The screen was that of two news anchors at the regular station with a small picture of a crashed car in the corner above their heads. The male reporter spoke first, "... And Ted in the Sky with 5 is reporting live one hundred feet above the accident scene. Ted?"

The next shot was of an older black man wearing a helmet and holding a microphone in the belly of a news chopper, "Thanks Carter. Gotham City Police were in pursuit of a young man who had carjacked a vehicle with the car's owner still inside. Even with the failed attempt of a roadblock, the victim was rescued after jumping out of the vehicle but the driver of the car pushed on and moved on to travel north on the southern extension of St. James Street. Near mile marker 103, the driver collided head on with a civilian vehicle, bringing a sudden and bloody end to the car chase. As you can see below, the vehicles have practically collapsed with one another, officers at the scene suggest that the vehicles had been traveling at a similar speed that was estimated to be forty five miles per an hour. Traffic is backed up for miles as the police have begun to barricade the road off to traffic access. The civilian driver was thrown from the vehicle while the passenger remained locked within---"

"Oh my God," I heard Barbara utter. I turned to look and saw her face as pale as snow, her lower lip trembling in fear. She turned abruptly and raced for the phone while I turned my attention back to the screen.

Ted had continued, "And, wait, yes it has been confirmed that the second driver that was victimized in the accident was none other than billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, his fiancée Selina Kyle riding as passenger. Both have been taken to the Gotham Mercy Hospital and are both considered to be in critical condition. Sure looks like real serious situation here at---."

I rose suddenly and dashed right past Barbara and into my room. In seconds, I sought out my suit and began to put it on. Without me being aware, Barbara came to my door, "No, Cass, he needs you, not Batgirl."

"But---."

She interrupted me, "Cassandra, he needs you," and then turned and left me alone.

But what could I have done by not being Batgirl? What could be done for him that required the plain me? I stared at her, saw the pain in her eyes and then nodded my head before retrieving my street clothes. As I put them back on, I bit my lip so that I wouldn't think about him.

Being hurt.

Again.

Helpless.

Again.

I felt a hot tear drip out of the corner of my eye and quickly wiped it away. He needed me. He didn't need me to be a crybaby. He needed me to be strong.

When Barbara returned, I was dressed and ready, sitting on my bed and looking out the window. She came over to me and touched my arm, "Cass, I'm going down to the hospital, to make some sense out of this. Dick's going to meet me there. Do you want to go to the Manor, stay here? What do you want to do?"

I wanted to fight for him.

I wanted to start the day over.

"I want to go with you."

V

"Madam, I believe that is gin."

"Alfred, you really need to stop winning," I sighed as he laid out his cards. It was his fourth victory in a row. And he was starting to gloat about it. Old coot. He smiled at that and I rose to touch his face, "Now, I quit this time, I'm going to get something to drink and no you can not get it for me. Why don't you fix that fire up a bit and pick a book out," and when I was at the door, "Preferably something of the Walt Whitman variety."

The halls were well lit but still darker than the den where Alfred and I had been for the last two hours. I allowed my old eyes to adjust before I climbed the three sets of stairs. At ten, Mattie had been roused, fed and left awake for a spell so I could cuddle with my favorite baby. After she had fallen asleep, I had put her back down to await her parents' return.

I turned the kitchen lights on and walked briskly over the cool marble floors. I poured two glasses of cranberry juice, spike them with rum and then sought out a plate and selected several muffins from the basket on the far counter. Balancing the dishes with the grace of a teenage waitress, I made my way back to the den, being sure to shut the lights off behind me.

Instead of sitting on the big leather couch with a book of poetry, he stood somberly towards the wall, talking quietly into the phone. I smiled, thinking that it was probably Bruce, making sure that everything was all right. Ever since she had been diagnosed with asthma, he was never settled when he was away from her, and probably never would be. I thought to myself that it would only get worse when she discovered boys...

Alfred nodded, then hung the phone up slowly. He sighed before turning to face me, his features drawn tightly into a frown. I set our drinks and snacks on the end table and turned the lamp that sat beside them on.

To lighten his mood, I stepped closer, "What, are they coming back already to end our evening alone?"

He shook his head and led me to the couch.

"Leslie," said shakily, "There was an accident."

"What accident, do I need to get back to the clinic?" I asked, but quickly realized that wasn't what he was telling me. His hazel eyes were glassed over as he stared at me. "Alfred, what accident?" I asked with more sternness in my voice than I had intended.

A mother's love for her children often times turned rather offensive.

"Master Bruce---" he bit his lip, "And Ms. Kyle were involved in an automobile accident..."

He squeezed my hand gently as he continued to speak, giving me the vague details he knew. It took a moment for it to register in my mind, however. The floodgates had opened and every image of Bruce and Selina I had in my mind flashed before my eyes. Bruce's teary eyed face as he stared at the portrait of his parents. Selina, younger, bolder and yet always willing to lend a hand. I felt breathless, helpless and hopeless all at once.

I felt just as I had when I held Bruce in my arms after his parents had died.

"I'll go get Mattie," I said suddenly and quickly rose to fetch her. I needed something to do, someone close that I could actually care for. I took the stairs much more quickly than I had an hour earlier. As carefully as possible, I lifted Mattie from the crib and grabbed her travel bag, blanket and stuffed panther. I had to make sure she would be as comfortable as possible, considering the night would in fact be a long one.

When I returned to the hall, Alfred was waiting, looking pale in the dark hall. "Ready?" I asked, my tone far too professional for the situation at hand.

He drove carefully, selecting one of the sturdiest SUVs in the garage. We all sat stock still, seat belted in tight and stared straight ahead. The exit for downtown was under police barricade so the trip to Mercy was thirty minutes longer than it had to be.

As we drove parallel to St. James, I saw the floodlights that highlighted the scene, tow trucks and the on and off flashes of police cars.

I saw what was left of Bruce's car.

I lost it.

Sobs erupted from deep within me as my hands flew to my face to fight off the tears. Alfred's hand settled on my shoulder and I heard his voice uttering soothing words but was unable to listen to them. I did my best to quiet myself, so that I wouldn't wake Mattie.

Had to care for her.

"Leslie, dear," I finally heard him. After a deep breath I managed to look up at him. Always the rock, the unwavering shoulder that absorbed a thousand tears. I added a few more as I leaned into his arm.

My cell phone chirped from my coat pocket. After composing myself a bit, I answered, "Dr. Thompkins."

"Leslie, it's Dick. How is everything?" he asked, his voice clearly not questioning me in a casual manner. He knew.

"We're okay, for now. Alfred, Mattie and I are on our way. Had to take a—a detour, road is still closed," my voice faded as my throat constricted. I forced myself to breathe, "What have you heard?"

"Not much," he sighed. "I just got here, Barb is a wreck but she's been reaming out everyone who treated them. So far, she found out that Selina had to be sedated because she went ballistic on the doctors because they wouldn't let her go to Bruce. She's not too bad, they said a concussion and some sutures were needed for her wounds."

"And Bruce?"

He paused. A long pause.

"Dick, what's his condition?"

"Bad. They took him up for emergency surgery shortly after he came into the ER. Lot of torso trauma," he paused, cursed then sighed, "Leslie, when they do the CT scan on his head, they'll see it."

"It" did not need to be clarified. "It" was the bullet that had nearly killed him two years earlier. One that Bruce Wayne had no reason to have. I cringed; thinking the ruckus it would ensue. If Bruce had suffered head trauma, the scans were needed to pinpoint the damage. But if they saw the bullet...

"What do you want to do Leslie?"

I paused before answering, "I'll take care of it."

After hanging up with him, I dialed the number for Mercy and then tapped in the digits for the radiology department. I was good friends with the chief of radiology, Marcus Starling. When he picked up the phone after the second ring he seemed genuinely surprised and pleased to hear from me. I offered a bit of small talk before asking my favor.

"Leslie… If there are complications…"

"There won't be. Please, just analyze the scans yourself and find a similar set. If this gets out…"

There was a long pause before he sighed, "All right. But if there's something major---."

"Then call me… I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"I can tell it all from the sound of your voice, Leslie…"

V

One week later and it would have been his anniversary with near death.

Seven days exactly, and it would have been the anniversary of Pasqualle's last stand.

Guess May wasn't your month, Bruce.

I sat in Selina's recovery room in a chair that was far from comfortable. My last time waiting around in a hospital had been with Mattie. But then it had been hardly scary, since we had known Mattie was going to be okay. I had sat next to her slumbering form while watching sitcoms on the wall- mounted TV.

In Selina's room, I stared at her bruised and bandaged face, watching as her chest rose and fell with each breath. Barbara and Cass were also in the room, but I could hardly feel their presence. I could only concentrate on the even sounds of Selina's breathing.

Leslie said she was going to handle the brain scan problem and the only way she could suggest some rather serious and devious behavior. And being the sweet, kindly, older woman that she was, it was difficult to picture her having staff switch films to protect Bruce.

But friends in the right places always paid off, everyone knew that.

"Mhmmm."

The sound of moaning shook me from my thoughts. Selina's eyes were still closed, but her hand had risen to probe the tender flesh of her cheek. Her movements were clumsy and sluggish, the sedatives still working their wonders on her system. When they wore off and she remembered what happened, there was no telling what she would do.

"Selina?" Barbara asked as she moved closer and touched the reclining woman's arm. She jerked slightly and then looked towards Barb.

"Whuh..." she managed before wincing.

"Take it easy, Selina, you're pretty banged up," I said as I rose and stood beside her bed.

She drew a few deep breaths, winced again and spoke, "Hurt all over. Can hardly breathe."

"Bruised ribs," Cassandra said softly.

"Try pureed ribs," Selina replied, wrapping her IV free arm around her diaphragm.

The room returned to silence for a brief moment as Selina slowly sat up. Once comfortable she asked, "How's Bruce? He's probably up and walking by now." I cringed and looked away from her. She saw and her breath hitched, "Dick?" By the time I faced her again, tears brimmed her eyes and a scowl marked her broken lip. "Richard, where is he?"

Barbara spoke first, "They took him upstairs, said they were going to send someone down to talk once they had surgery underway."

"What surgery?" she asked, her scowled fading into a trembling lower lip.

She continued, "He was thrown from the car, Selina---"

Selina growled, "I know that, I felt the seat after we crashed and he wasn't there, don't tell me something I know, tell me what's wrong with him."

Barbara paused and then resumed as steadily and calmly as possible, retelling what little we knew. Severe chest and abdominal trauma, possible head injury, severe lacerations and road burn. Elevated vitals that wouldn't settle despite the shock that coursed his system. Blood loss. After Barb's run down of things, Selina broke into tears, quiet, sobless tears. I watched as she stared at her engagement ring, caressed it with a finger and then covered it with her bare hand. She then lifted her hands and covered her face as she wept.

I had to get out of there.

Passing a wide eyed Barbara and a grief stricken Cassandra, I made my out into the hall and dashed down the corridor towards the exits. Once outside I looked up at the cloudless sky and screamed. Passerbys stared briefly but then when about their business. When my lungs burned and my throat was dry, I grew quiet.

And then I felt the boiling rumble of bile rise to the back of my throat. A quick dash to nearest patch of lawn and I let my guts loose until dry heaves racked my body. I fell to my knees, out of breath and strength, feeling nothing but pain and fear.

Until I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and heard the tobacco-scarred voice I had grown up with, "It's all right, son, let it out."

Jim Gordon knelt beside me and wrapped an arm around my back as I leaned my head into the crook of his neck. Through quiet sobs I asked the inevitable, "Why him?"

He had no answer, but he patted my back and offered the only words he could, "I don't know, Dick. I don't know."

It took a long while to get myself under control and when I did, Jim helped me to my feet and led me inside. We walked the halls of the ER to the recovery rooms where I had left my family moments earlier. As we rounded the bend, I saw Barb and Cass in the hall and Selina's door shut. I glanced through the small window in the wall and peeked through Venetian blinds to see a tall, older doctor sitting on the edge of her bed and talking quietly and calmly.

"Who's that?" I finally asked.

"Chief of medicine. Bruce's high profile status dragged him out of his office to come down here and talk with us."

"Her," Cassandra corrected, "Not allowed in there."

Barbara nodded, "All he told us was that he was still in the OR but that everything was running smoothly."

"Real helpful," I heard Jim mutter.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, "Selina will fill us in later. She deserves to know first."

After a beat, Jim asked, "Has anyone been by to question her about the accident?"

We all shook our heads but Barbara spoke, "Not that I know of, but I don't know if Selina would be up to giving a statement right now."

He huffed and then scanned the lobby and spotted two uniformed officers talking with a group of nurses, "Well, maybe I can see what they have done." With that he straightened his tie and strode off towards them, a look in his eye that scared even me.

The hallway as alive with activity, people passing by on foot, in wheelchairs and on gurneys. We grouped together in front of Selina's door staring at our feet, at the lights, at the posters on the wall promoting safe sex and TB testing. Anywhere but at each other.

"Has anyone called Tim?" I asked suddenly, studying the laces on my shoes.

Barbara spoke quietly, "No," and began to rummage for her cell phone.

Once she found it, I looked over and offered my hand, "I'll call him." She nodded and handed the device over. Before I left to return outdoors, I said, "Come get me when the doctor comes out."

Both women nodded.

Tim's room phone went unanswered, but I managed to get him on the cell.

"Tim-may!" he called out. Loud music was in the background and lots of voices singing along or just chattering. A sudden roar of applause and then silence as Tim's voice returned, "Barbara?"

"No, it's me Tim, what are you doing?"

"Oh, man, I should have called you, the Head-masturbator got Green Day to come perform before commencement. I think the whole school's out here on the Quad."

I heard the band start to pick up again, "Wow, Tim, that's awesome."

"So what's up? Need anything?"

I felt a finger tap my shoulder and spun around to see Cassandra, "He wants to talk to you."

I covered the phone, "I'll be right in." and then to Tim, "Listen, Bro, I'll call you in the morning, have fun, don't get trampled in the pit."

He laughed and said, "I'll get a shirt for you," and then hung up.

I sighed and closed the connection. He would hate me for telling him later, but I wasn't about to let anyone else's night be ruined. He would forgive me.

I wouldn't forgive myself.

V


	16. Life Is Good: XVI

Title: Life Is Good: XVI

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

Ah, Hell.

Although most of my body hummed with Morphine, I felt the prick of IV needles in my arm, the taught constriction of bandages around my ribs and the burning sensation deep in my skin that could only be associated with road rash. I kept my eyes closed as I mentally took my own vitals and tried to get a sense as to my environment. I heard Alfred as he cleared his throat at twenty-eight second intervals, a habit of his when he slept. I smelt the disinfectant stench that was the l'eu du hospital.

Thankfully, I wasn't intubated and was only blessed with an oxygen cannula under my nose. I moved my jaw slowly, felt it catch and then squared it off. A little tender. My toes were cold but I could feel them, at least. The worst pain was in my torso, a flaming shock of agony with every breath I took. My abdomen was in a similar state, both symptoms suggested internal damage.

Lots of bandages. My face, arms and legs. Wounds didn't hurt too badly though.

Road rash.

Scenes from the accident flashed in the back of my groggy mind. Head-on collision at that speed should have cued both air bags, but mine had failed. However, I was grateful that mine had not inflated and that Selina's had. I remembered trying to direct the car out of the way, but having nowhere to turn. In a last ditch effort, I had had moved over in the lane, so that right side of the car was over the white line as much as possible. Taking the brunt of it for myself.

After thirty minutes of replaying the accident to myself, I decided to let Alfred know that I was awake. Despite the efforts of drapes drawn over the single window, light still flooded the small room. After a few forceful blinks, everything came into focus. Alfred sat beside me, dozing slightly as his head lulled down towards his chest. There was no other sign of life in the room.

So much for a welcoming party.

I sighed and removed the cannula and hooked it on the IV stand. My hand- eye coordination was off and it took three tries to get the job done. Then, as carefully as possible, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I winced audibly several times as a searing pain in my back flared up. By bearing weight on my left arm, I managed to adjust the pillow so that it would support my back before leaning onto it. Once as comfortable as I could get, I let out a sigh and closed my eyes again.

Unfortunately, just as I did so, Cassandra walked into the room and caught me, "Awake?"

"Sort of," I rasped.

"You in pain?" she asked as she approached the bed.

I shook my head slowly, "I'm fine," and tried to smile to prove it.

She looked over at Alfred before saying, "How long have you been awake?"

"Half hour. Not long," I paused before patting the edge of the bed slowly. I watched as she carefully sat up on the mattress with minimal of movement. I took a shallow breath, "Where's Selina?"

She pointed the left, "Two rooms down. Sleeping with Mattie."

I closed my eyes briefly, "Is she all right?"

Cass chewed her lip before replying, "Hurt her head. Some cuts. Ribs hurt too."

"Nothing serious? Critical?"

She shook her head and the pointed at my chest, "You were."

I had expected as much and to ask what she knew when Alfred's voice said, "Dear Lord, Master Bruce, you are awake?"

Cass nodded, "For half hour."

I smiled at her boldness and looked over at Alfred, "Is Selina all right?"

"She is just fine," he replied as he proceeded to return the cannula to my face, "You should be worried with your own health status at the moment."

I tried to brush his hands away but he persisted. Instead of fighting with him I asked what my "health status" was. After he fetched another blanket from a counter on the far wall and had begun to cover me with it he said, "Miss Cassandra, do run to the nurse's station, tell them Master Bruce has awoken."

She looked at me and I nodded. After she had scooted off and stepped out of the room Alfred answered my question, "Some severe trauma to your abdomen, sir. An abdominocentisis tap revealed some internal bleeding and the surgeons located a tear in the hepatic vein in addition to some bruising to your liver and spleen. Several ribs were broken as well, resulting in contained hemorrhaging in the pleural cavity."

"And my head?"

"Minor concussion, fortunately. As well as the regular brand of scrapes and lacerations one favors in an automobile accident."

It wasn't too bad, I decided, could have been a lot worse. Could have died. Selina could have died. I had a sudden urge to see her; to make sure was indeed all right. I sat up straight again until I felt Alfred's hands on my shoulders, "Please sir, after."

I reluctantly reclined. After. After the doctor came. After I ripped the IV needles out and leapt out of bed. After I raced to her bedside and took her into my arms.

After.

V

"C'mon, don't be pissed."

I continued to look at the vending machine, my scowl slowly replaced by a focused intent as to what candy bar I wanted. He had called me last night, all he had to do was say "Bruce and Selina were in an accident" and boom, I would have ditched the concert and booked it to Gotham.

But instead, he said have a good time and I ended up hearing it from the radio news broadcaster. Actually, I wasn't even the one who had heard it, one of the guys on my floor had been listening to the radio after the concert and had told me. A few friends and I had been in my room, laughing it up, still in the giddy disbelief that we had just been able to see a free concert by Green Day. At ten after two, he knocked on my door and asked if I had heard the news.

Most of the kids at school knew I was Bruce's neighbor and that we were friends and went silent after Good Samaritan Harold had said, "Your buddy Wayne and his wife there were in a big car wreck, it's all over the news, man."

I took off right then, not needing any bags because my car had been packed for the next day when school let out. Whatever was left behind could stay, for all I cared. I drove blindly to Gotham much faster than I should have. I had the AM 100.3 Gotham NEWS blaring on the radio and memorized every fact they uttered that had to do with Bruce and Selina.

When I had arrived at Mercy a little before four in the morning, Dick and Cassandra had gone off to patrol while Jim Gordon, Alfred and Leslie had sat bedside in Selina's recovery room. I fought my way to get in there and once I had checked in, I headed upstairs to surgery.

I sat in the OR lobby, by myself, and watched the entrance doors, waiting for Bruce's body to pass through them.

A nurse checked in with me regularly, offered a bed or something to eat, but I refused as politely as possible. I was furious at Dick, not her, and it was very difficult for me to control myself. At exactly 7:34, the doors opened and three nurses and technicians pushed a gurney out of the OR and towards the post-op wing. I recognized Bruce's face and figure despite the bandages and tubes. I didn't follow it however, but instead returned to the ground floor to report my findings.

And just my luck, they had moved "Mrs. Wayne" to a private room on the fourth floor. The same floor I had just been on. Exhausted, frustrated and in no mood for any more fusses, I returned to the elevator and pressed the up button. When the glossy doors opened, I had half expected a flood of people to pour out over top of me.

Instead, Dick stood there in wrinkled clothes.

"Hi," he smiled.

I had then promptly turned away from him and headed for the vending machines in the main lobby. He had followed me with long strides and spoke quietly, trying to explain his reasoning behind not telling me that Bruce had been in emergency surgery while I had been partying. How he didn't want to interrupt my evening. To upset me.

Well, too bad, he had pissed me off.

"C'mon Tim, grow up a bit, all right," he said under his breath as I fed the machine quarters.

That was it.

I slammed my fist into the machine and faced him, "I am plenty grown up, Dick," I growled before turning back to the vending machine and retrieving my Snickers bar. It was nine-thirty in the morning; I had been awake all night and hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day. Not going anywhere for a while, grab a Snickers, I mused to myself.

As I walked away from him and back towards the elevator bay, he spoke again, "Tim, I didn't mean it like that. I was looking out for you, man, what did it matter that you found out a few hours later?"

I punched the up button as soon as I was within reach of it and jammed it several times before speaking, "It wasn't that I found out later, Dick, it was that I found out from a damned radio instead of you."

He had no reply.

We rode up to the fourth floor with three medical interns who chatted excitedly about a joint appendectomy and splenectomy that was scheduled for that afternoon. I focused on their words instead of how much I hated Dick at that moment. They got off on the second floor and no one else joined up in the car.

He still had no reply.

It wasn't until the doors opened up for our destination that he spoke, "I'm sorry, Tim. I can't take what I did back, but I'm sorry."

And before I could respond he walked away.

I wanted to hate him even more. I wanted him to feel the pain I had. Then I realized that he already was hurting. His father was in an ICU bed, his life was in turmoil and he had no control over any of it. I tried to think badly of him until my deep down Robin-blood began to pulse within me. He had been looking out for me, even if it hadn't ended well.

He had tried his best.

With each step I took towards Selina's new room, I felt more and more like an ass. By the time I reached the open door, I felt as if some kid was going to come up behind me and pin a tail to my backside. I peered in to see Selina sitting on the bed with her daughter as they played with a few stuffed dolls and animals. Cassandra watched on in wonderment and Dick stood by the far wall. Barbara was next to the bed, typing on a laptop. Alfred and Leslie were nowhere to be found. As if reading my mind, Barbara looked up, "Leslie had to get back to work. Alfred's with Bruce."

I nodded and then searched the room for a chair, found one next to Cass and walked over to it, avoiding Dick's eyes as much as I could. To focus on something other than how lousy I felt, I watched as Mattie put spare band- aids on one of her dolls. After she was satisfied, she handed the doll to her mother, "Mah-mie."

With a slight smirk, Selina took the doll, "Thank you, a voodoo doll. How sweet of you."

Mattie then went about wrapping up her black panther, using the remaining bandages and a spare wrap they had given her to play with. Once the poor thing resembled a feline mummy, she set it on the bed away from her and said, "Da-hie"

"It does look like Daddy, doesn't it?" she asked the child as she stroked the stuffed cat's head.

"She's seen him?" I asked suddenly.

Selina nodded, "Leslie took her in to see him. She was about to pitch a fit; after all, it's been twelve hours with no Daddy. Must be a record."

Mattie said her father's name again and began to pull the bandages off, "No ickie."

The room went quiet, as we all watched the young child cure the panther.

If only she could work real magic.

V

"Bruce?"

Master Bruce and myself looked up to see Dr. Ritter in the door way, his tall frame dressed in baggy khakis, a pale blue shirt and red tie underneath his thigh length doctor's coat. He stepped into the room without welcome and stood beside the bed, his hand proffered. Master Bruce lifted his hand slowly and shook it, "Doc."

"Holy cow, you people just keep coming back for more and more. Tell me, is it my dashing good looks or my sparkling personality? Probably neither, how are you feeling?"

Master Bruce sighed, "Like there's an elephant sitting on my chest."

"A pink or a green one?"

He replied in a soft smile and shifted his weight in the bed. Dr. Ritter than asked about how Miss Mattie was and if she had been in the accident.

After a beat, Master Bruce had replied, "Thankfully no. Healthwise, she's great, the allergy tests helped narrow down what to avoid and she was very thankful to get her cat back."

The good doctor smiled, "Ah, her 'Icee'. That's great; kids should have a pet, even that young. Teaches them responsibility until they get bored with and before you know it you're the one walking the dog every morning, feeding the fish and kicking the cat off of the counter. Ah, but you'll get to that soon enough. In the mean time, stop jumping through windshields," he winked, touched Master Bruce's shoulder and nodded at me before heading back to the hall.

After a moment's silence, I spoke, "Sir, do you need anything?"

He mumbled, "Mattie."

"Sir?"

He shook his head, "Nothing. I'm fine."

A nurse arrived moments later and brought a tray of ice water and a gelatin dessert with peach cubes mixed in. A distasteful meal for an individual in recovery but he was to be released within the next few days, and if the correct strings were pulled, even sooner. The longer he stayed under the care of interns, the longer his recovery would be and the crankier his temperament would become. And as his post-hospitalization caretaker, the less I had to fight against the better.

Once she left, Master Bruce drank the water slowly but returned the empty cup and made no motion for the food. I asked if he desired an alternate meal and he simply shook his head, mumbling something to the fact that he wasn't hungry.

"Are you in pain, sir?"

He did not confirm nor deny it.

Which translated the same way it had thirty years ago when he was just a boy and in bed with a cold. He was aching but was too arrogant to acknowledge it.

That and he appeared to be completely miserable. He was not only under extreme duress but he had not seen Ms. Kyle since the night before and had been unconscious when Dr. Thompkins had brought Mattie into visit. She had fussed and whimpered, wanting to be near him but Leslie had only let her touch him once on the hand before taking her back to her mother.

And even though he was apart from his family a vast majority of the day, he had always greeted them in the morning when they woke and in the evening as they went to bed. He had failed to do either in the last day. And it was practically a law of physics that when Master Bruce failed, repercussions were to follow.

I was about to push the fact that he should try and ingest a portion of the gelatin conglomeration when I noticed he had dozed off. Out of force of habit, I checked the vitals on the cardiogram and was satisfied to see everything within his normal range.

I shut the lights off on my way out and closed the door quietly behind me.

Two rooms down the corridor, I rapped on a door numbered 406 A. A chart rack attached to the wall held a metal clipboard with documents bearing Ms. Kyle's name and status. I heard several voices from within and after my announcement had gone unanswered, I opened the door cautiously, not wanting to bump into any unsuspected visitors.

The visitors, so to speak, included Master Timothy, Ms. Barbara, Miss Cassandra, Master Dick and of course, Miss Mattie. The older of the bunch, were situated around the room while Miss Mattie sat upon the bed with her mother and toys. I smiled to see she had put bandages on two of them. Ms. Kyle, despite her condition, had been the first to notice my presence, "Hi, Alfred."

I nodded as the others became aware as well.

Before they could ask, I answered, "He is resting at the moment, rather comfortably."

Master Tim nodded briefly and then studied the floor. He had yet to visit Master Bruce in either his unconscious or conscious state. It seemed that ever since Master Bruce had fallen to Bane so many years ago, Master Tim had found it rather difficult to handle situations such as the one at hand. As a young child, his mother had been slain and his father left scarred for life from violence and injury, which had obviously affected the poor lad despite how hard he tried.

Instead of letting him wallow in pain, I decided to step in for a change, "Master Timothy, a moment if you will."

He looked up, his young face lost in confusion. I looked towards the door and he finally rose and followed me into the corridor. After he shut the door, he asked, "What is it Alfred? You need something?"

I sighed, recollecting the thousands of times he had sacrificed his own self to help others without a second's pause. It was his charitable good nature shining through, with or without the mask. It warmed my aged heart to see such strong character in someone so young, and yet it pained me at the same time.

"It is not what I need, sir, but what you do."

He was clueless, even when I led him down the hall, passing two doors to 404 A, marked on a small erase board with red marker: Crit, Post Op, Mor/Cod as needed.

He froze in his tracks, "Al, no, I can't."

I turned to face him as I opened the door, "Yes, you can."

I walked in and sat beside Master Bruce, retrieving my leather bound copy of "The Canterbury Tales" and awaited Master Tim's entrance to the room. After thirty-six pages and watching him pace back and forth in front of the door, he paused then walked in, shutting the door soundlessly.

Being the invisible being that I tended to be at times, I gave Master Tim privacy by immersing myself in Chaucer. That was I gave him visual privacy by keeping my eyes set on the worn pages, but a proper gentleman's gentleman never eavesdropped, just discreetly overheard.

"Hi, Bruce."

Then the soft sounds of breathing.

"Selina's ok, but your car is trashed, saw pictures on the news this morning. It's not a good way to decrease your car collection," he paused, "I would have taken the SLK off your hands, no problem."

And then a slight groan, "You already have a car."

I smiled as Master Tim breathed in quickly and then commented, "Yeah but the SLK, would have been nice on the weekends."

"To do what?"

"Um, you know, go to the library."

Master Bruce snickered quietly, "Off for break?"

He replied, "As of today I am. Guess I got me a job for the next few weeks or so."

"Week. Be optimistic."

I interrupted after a polite cough, "A few weeks or so seems to be a proper estimate, Master Tim."

V

Instead of staying with everyone else, I followed Tim.

I hid behind a storage shelf as he paced the hall, back and forth, back and forth. He was nervous, but about what? I had visited him already; he was no different than usual, except for a few new scars.

Finally, he went in. I walked over after I was sure he was going to stay in the room and then stepped over to listen. It was a long time before he spoke to him.

For a bit, no one replied, but then I heard him speak, even if it was quiet, it was still his voice. I would be able recognize in a crowd of thousands.

They talked for a while, but I couldn't get all of what they were saying. Random topics, some laughing, nothing too major. After twenty minutes of crouching before the door and lots of stares from nurses, I retreated after distinctly hearing Tim's footsteps.

As I walked away back to Selina's room I heard, "Cass?"

When I turned, his head was tilted a bit and he had a half-smile on his face, "Want to raid the caf with me?"

"Caf?"

"Cafeteria, see if there's anything to eat."

I hadn't eaten in several hours and that had been a doughnut. Well one and a half, because Dick had fallen asleep with one in his hand and it was fair game.

I followed him the elevator and we made our way to the first floor. He acted as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. The cafeteria was twice the size of the dining hall at the Manor, filled with tiny tables and lots of scrub-clad people. There was a line of people at a counter and we joined them. Smells of grease, chicken and something sweet filled the air.

Not Alfred-worthy, but still pretty good.

The early lunch special ended up being chicken stuffed with broccoli and potato wedges. Some sort of vegetable mush was served as a side, but I decided against it. After getting drinks at the soda machine, we passed through a cashier station where Tim paid for both of us.

"Bon appetite," the old woman behind the computer winked at me.

We managed to find an empty table that was randomly placed in the middle of the room. There had only been on chair, so I grabbed an unused one that sat in the middle of the floor, tableless.

The chicken was a little dry but edible as far as I was concerned. Tim picked and stabbed at it but hardly ate anything. I had cleared my plate, my soda cup and had begun to eyeball his potatoes when he looked up, "Guess you were hungry."

I shrugged, "Growing girl."

He smiled, "Guess so."

I sighed, played with the ice cubes in my cup and then asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, just not hungry. Had a candy bar little while ago."

"Not about the food," I clarified by touching my brow, "Here."

He was quiet for a long time. I thought he had decided to ignore me, so I stole a fry from his plate. He didn't notice so I poked him in the nose with it. Before I could pull it away, he jerked and ate it.

I laughed quietly as he grinned, chewing away.

After a while, he finally answered, "I guess I'm worried. About him. It seems every time he reaches his peak, something knocks him back down," he took a long sip of Cherry Cola, "It was like that for me in the beginning, I never could get to where I wanted to be. Always worked hard and whenever I felt proud, something would go wrong."

I stared at him, listening to his every word, studying his every move. I spoke as he stared at the food before him, "You do good, Tim."

"I know. Actually, no, I don't. Everyone else knows but me. Even Bruce knows, he was always there for me, even when I didn't want him to be. And ever since I went off to school, I haven't been able to return the favor to him. Every time I've been at his side on the street, I mess up and then everything goes to Hell."

I knew to what he was referring.

When Poison Ivy had taken us captive. When we watched Batman nearly choke to death before our eyes.

When he fought Two-Face and had barely made it in time to help him.

When he was shot by Pasqualle, not even ten feet away.

"Can't help him all the time," I said, lowering my head a bit, "Not Superman."

He tried to hide the smirk by looking away.

I continued, "I try to help, when I can. Sometimes it works, or not. Just have to keep going, keep trying. Barb told me, always feel proud, no matter what. Goes to Hell, too late to change. Just keep trying."

He looked over at me and I smiled, "Like the fish, Dory. Keep swimming. Don't be, Mr. Grumpy Gills."

It took a moment before he replied, "I love that movie. I still can't get over that the shark's name is Bruce."

I touched his arm before stealing another fry, "Fish are our friends, not food."

We finished off his food together, bought ice cream cones and then made our way back upstairs. When we got in the empty elevator, he leaned over and kissed my cheek, "Thanks Cass."

I kept myself from blushing by listing the forms of marital arts that I knew in reverse alphabetical order.

V

By six that evening, I had enough of hospital life.

Barbara and Dick had taken Mattie, Cassandra and Tim to the Barb's and Alfred had gone to visit Leslie at the clinic. Bruce was thirty some odd feet away and had been all day and I had yet to see him. My doctor suggested I rested up and waited until the next day or maybe the day after that.

Right, like that was going to happen.

After my nurse checked in on me, I carefully unhooked the IV from my body, wrapped the cotton robe Alfred had brought for me around my body and then made my way to the door. I peered out to see a surprisingly quiet and empty hall. I waited five minutes and still no sign of hospital staff, goons or zombies.

I believed the term was Purrr-fect.

With the grace of a concussed cat thief, I shimmied down the hall as quickly as my sore frame would allow. Bruce's door was slightly ajar and I snuck in quietly before shutting it. When I turned, I had expected him to be asleep but he was lying there, wide-awake, staring out the window.

After a few seconds, his head rolled over towards me and he blinked slowly. The lights had been turned off except for a soft lamp that was imbedded into the wall above his head. It cast a soft shadow over his face, but I could see the faint outlines of a smile. His lips moved in the form of my name but no sound came forth.

"Oh, baby," I said, my throat constricting. He looked worse than I had expected. A bandage covered his left cheek, and there were several patches of gauze on his arms. Both eyes had blackened and his lip was split open. I thought of my own cracked lip and smiled weakly as I approached him. I carefully sat on the bed and leaned over to hug him. His right arm rose languidly and laid limply across my shoulders.

"So tired," he managed.

"I know, you should sleep," I said before kissing a small area of unscathed skin on his face.

"Slept all day," he murmured, "Too tired to sleep."

I felt his fingers move on my back, touching my shoulder blade softly. I put my right arm on the bed and leaned over him by bearing my weight on that arm. With my other hand, I touched a patch of skin on his upper brow where they had shaved some hair off to suture the wound below. "Nice hair cut, they use a lawn mower?"

He smiled weakly, "Nah, weed whacker." He winced and I felt his breath catch as his chest jerked. Before I could voice my concern he said, "Fine, I try not to cough. Side hurts."

"I would imagine so. You only played slip and slide on the road for fifteen feet."

He didn't smile at that, but frowned, "Couldn't get out of the way, Selina. Had nowhere to go," his breathing increased a bit with worry. "I should have---"

"Shh, don't think about it, Bruce. It's over now."

"Could have been you driving---"

I kissed him to shut him up.

He wasn't satisfied but had silently agreed to drop the subject for the time being. He slowly moved over in the bed and made room for me to lie beside him. I reclined and helped him wrap his arms around my body and then pulled the top blanket over both of our bodies. He felt colder than usual.

"Where is everyone?"

I told him how the gang had left earlier, taking Mattie to get something to eat and for a good night's sleep. He then questioned how everyone was, which slightly surprised me. If it too a few cc's to get Bruce to be so amiable, maybe we needed to start spiking his coffee.

Finally, he asked about Mattie.

"I told her we had an accident, but nothing about the car, I don't want her to start fearing rides. They brought her in here when you were still out this morning, and when she came back all she did was wrap her dolls up in bandages and then unwrap them."

He snickered, "I think we've made a doctor out of her."

I tilted my head up and kissed his jaw, "Dr. Wayne the Second."

He was quiet for a long time after that and I was about to ask if he had fallen asleep when I heard the door creak open. I looked up to see Dick peering into the dark room. When he realized I was in the bed with Bruce, he physically jerked before whispering, "Selina?"

I replied, "Selina's not here, come back later."

He laughed a bit, "Just figured I drop by, Barb's going to take Mattie for the night, we'll bring her over in the morning."

Before I could speak, Bruce mumbled from behind me, "Keep her. Free, comes with own clothes, toys… Mother too."

Any other time I would have elbowed him for that.

But since I knew how sore his ribs were, I settled for biting his hand.

V


	17. Life Is Good: XVII

Title: Life Is Good: XVII

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

More so for Selina's sake rather than my own, I drove up to Bristol to spend a morning with her on the Saturday exactly three weeks before the wedding. She had been not only juggling the tasks of her matrimonial event, but also Mattie's new routine and Bruce's recovering form, who was still on his "death bed" six days after the accident.

She had phoned me well after midnight the night before, her voice hushed and secretive. I heard soft music in the background and had asked what the cloak and dagger routine was for.

"Barb, it's the first time all week that they have both been asleep at the same time."

I had laughed, "I told you raising kids would be a challenge."

She had sighed and then went silent completely before responding, "Bruce moved his head but I think he's still down for the count. Almost feel sorry for him."

"Yeah, him and his silly splenic and hepatic contusions."

We had decided a morning to ourselves was in order and scheduled breakfast for the next day. To keep Mattie occupied, I convinced Cassandra to join me in the trip out to Bristol. The idea of getting up at seven on a Saturday wasn't too appealing to her at first, but after I mentioned breakfast she was already setting her alarm clock.

At twenty-three after seven, we made our way through the side entrance of the manor. Wafting odors of bacon, blueberry muffins and French toast greeted us. I found robe-clad Selina in the kitchen nook, reading the paper over a cup of coffee with Mattie at her side, playing with maple syrup. When the child looked up and smiled I said, "Looks like someone's enjoying herself."

Selina glanced up and rose, "Great, you're here. Can you keep an eye on her, I have to get some food into Bruce so he can take his meds."

I nodded, "No problem, Cass why don't you get a washcloth out of the kitchen so we can make Mattie look a little bit less of a waffle and more like a Wayne."

It was twenty minutes before Selina returned. She had ditched the robe and changed into black elastic leggings that flared at the bottom of her calves. She wore a dark purple tank top and had redone the bun that partially contained her hair. As I looked closer, I saw fresh dabs of makeup on her face that covered a mottled bruise on her brow and dark smudges beneath her eyes.

We were quiet as Cassandra devoured the remaining French toast slices before sitting back in her chair looking absolutely bored to death. Mattie bore a similar look and I suggested, "Cass, why don't you take her up to the nursery, play with her for a while before her nap."

Cass bolted out of the chair, carefully retrieved the child and left the room with a grin on her face. After I was completely sure they were out of hearing range I asked, "Long night?"

She nodded slowly and sipped coffee. After a deep breath, she massaged her temples, "Longest yet. And of course this was the weekend that Bruce had convinced Alfred to take off. Him and Leslie scooted off to a bed and breakfast somewhere up in Fulton County and won't be back until Sunday night." She paused again and looked out the window at the side "yard". Within less than a month, she and Bruce would exchange vows in that green lush.

Tragedy had been the theme for the entire year and I wondered if similar thoughts coursed her mind.

I asked what happened the night before twice before she finally answered.

"Well, for starters, Mattie was extremely clingy. Put her in the nursery, she would bawl, put her on the bed, she would bawl. Hold her and she would be fine for a while and then she would bawl for Bruce to hold her. And of course he's oh so helpful, lying in the bed, trying to act as if he's not in the worse pain of his life. The man could hardly sit and he was trying to take Mattie from me so that 'I could rest'. He was mumbling something about taking her for a walk but it was nine at night and that was the last thing she needed. But the second he touched her she was instantly quiet, so what choice did I have?"

She looked at me with tired eyes and I encouraged her to continue ranting.

"So I get him back into bed, told him to hold her until she fell asleep and that I was going to wash up and get his meds ready. I'm halfway through my shower, which is the first one I took in two days mind you, and he dashes into the bathroom and pukes his guts up into the toilet."

"Is that normal?"

Selina stabbed the crust of her uneaten French toast with her fork, "The doctor said there would be 'residual' effects and that they would include restlessness, nausea and gut-rearranging vomiting. Hence, Bruce has taken to fasting, which isn't making anything better. He's too weak with fever and fatigue to function on any remotely normal level, which pisses him off even more than being hurt has already. I caught him walking downstairs yesterday morning, alone, and I let him have it. He tried to argue but stopped and simply turned around and went back to bed. Since then he's been in the mopey mood."

"Is he all right, upstairs, all alone?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I tried to get him to wash up this morning, to try and come down and sit for breakfast but he said he was content to lay and rot away."

"What a grouch."

"Just call him Oscar..." she finally ate a piece of the toast, "He is getting better though. At the beginning of the week he would lay there, hardly aware as to what was going on around him. Now he's whining and trying to rebel. Has a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon for an ultrasound and re-evaluation."

I asked, "Who's watching the munchkin?"

"Dick volunteered, said he needed to talk to Bruce so I bargained with him. If he'd watch Mattie then I would let him talk to Bruce, after the appointment."

"He didn't even barter for ice cream?"

"Oh he did, but an icy glare satisfied his need for frosty treats."

V

By noon, they were still talking but had moved to the den. They were looking over wedding things like guest lists, flower arrangements and the other final touches.

Mattie had fallen asleep and I had put her in the crib to nap. We had played for four hours with nearly every toy she owned. Finally, she settled on dolls and made a small play with them, voicing their lines in her jumbled language.

It had been fun. I laughed more than I had in a long time.

But one of the main reasons why I had wanted to go to the Manor, besides to see her, had been to check on Tim. Over the last week, he had returned to Gotham nightlife in full force, working well past four in the morning even after everyone else had checked in for the night.

After I caught on, I would stay out as long as he did, just in case.

As Batman was on leave for his injuries, Dick had resumed the mantle, against Bruce's wishes. Selina and Alfred had asked him to do it and Leslie threatened Bruce's life if he disobeyed the mandatory two weeks of rest. I asked him for how long the first night out and he said he didn't know.

Not a good sign.

He balanced being Batman and Nightwing just as precisely as he had before. When nights were worse on one city, he would take up that guises and fight crime and leave the other city to our control. Out of five nights, he had spent three in Gotham. On top of that, he was still working in Bludhaven, but had swapped schedules for a few weeks of day shifts.

So dedicated to him.

Before going downstairs, I walked from Mattie's nursery to his bedroom. The door was slightly open and I peered in.

He was in bed, lying beneath thin blankets with his head propped by two pillows. The curtains were drawn and the sunshine hardly peeked through into the dark room. At first I thought he was sleeping but then he coughed, cursed and shifted under the covers a bit.

He needed to rest.

I needed to get out of there before he saw me.

I slid down the banister to make the trip down the stairs quicker. After seeking out Barbara and Selina in the den, I asked if Tim had been around while I was upstairs.

Selina nodded and looked up from a handful of papers, "Yeah, about an hour ago, went down stairs though."

I nodded and then headed for the main hall's grandfather clock.

The Cave was cool, and only a few of the overhead lights were turned on. I followed the sounds of thuds to the training mats where Tim was dressed in black shorts and boxing gloves. The sand bag shifted with every blow he delivered, suggesting the force behind the punches.

After fifteen minutes I walked over and popped out from behind the sand bag and pushed it at him, "Surprise!"

"Agh!" he yelped and dodged the bag but lost his balance and fell on his rear. I laughed as he jumped up, his face red with exhaustion and anger. "What's so funny? I'm trying to get some work done here."

"You are? What work?"

"A work out Cass, I'm sure you've heard of it," he growled before returning his attention to the sand bag.

I sighed and left him for a while and sought refuge in the dressing chamber. When I returned, I wore sleeveless slinky and a pair of nylon leggings. And my own pair of boxing gloves. I walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, he said, "Cass, leave me alon-- -."

He didn't get to finish because I decked him.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Want to work out? With me, save time."

"What? No, I don't want to."

I shrugged and gave him a soft uppercut, "Too bad."

Instead of being passive and letting things be, he fought back, throwing wild punches and kicks that were so easy to avoid it scared me. With every block I made, I followed through with jabs to his belly or sides, only rattling him further.

I flipped backwards and away from him, encouraging the charge I knew he would make. When he came barreling at me, I stepped aside and tripped him. He sprawled onto the mats and then jumped to his feet, "Cass, knock it off. This isn't getting us anywhere."

"My point exactly."

"What?"

Before he could ponder it, I sank a few jabs into his chest and a cross hook to his shoulder. He prepared to retaliate and a roundhouse to his side flatted him on the mats for the third time in as many minutes.

This time he never rose, but sat up as he removed his gloves and avoided my eyes, "What is your point 'exactly'?"

"Not getting you anywhere, being down here, working all the time." I removed my own gloves and sat on the mats next to him, "Did it for years, did too much. Lost control. Now better, less work, more fun. More family."

"Since when did you become the great philosopher in the bunch?"

I shrugged and wiped a bead of sweat off my brow.

"Cass, you down here? We have to get going," I heard Barbara's voice echo.

"Yeah," I called back as I stood smoothly. I dropped my gloves in Tim's lap and smiled, "Doesn't get you anywhere. But hurt. But dead."

Without a word, I left Tim on the mats and made my way upstairs.

V

As I watched Cass climb the stairs, her words finally sank in.

I didn't adhere to them but I did see her point as being clear as day. She had struggled for years to control herself, her training and her abilities as well as her life. Being bred and raised as the perfect assassin required a certain degree of control, I supposed.

I picked up the gloves and returned them to the equipment storage bin of the training area. I found my towel and water bottle and wiped my face before guzzling cool liquid. I shuffled over to the computer bay, my mind unusually fuzzy. The interruption of Cassandra's had messed up my focus, I decided and sat in the chair at the console. I had been doing well, each day this week, spending six hours in the Cave, three for physical training and three for mental. I was way off from what I wanted to be, no, what I needed to be.

Bruce, Dick, Gotham City needed me to be at my peak, not valley.

I scanned case files and arranged evidence, clues and data in my head before scanning the computerized organized results. As I read a case involving the arson of a bakery, I realized I was hungry. I hadn't eaten since the day before, and that had been lunch with Dick. And we didn't have nearly as much to eat as he had things to say.

He had slept at the Manor after a long night of patrols and joined me in the kitchen for some grub. Alfred had made turkey club sandwiches and fresh lemonade. After a bite of my sandwich, he spoke bluntly, "Tim, I think you're pushing yourself, man. I know you need to get back into the swing of things, but it's okay to take your time. Driving yourself insane isn't going to help matters."

He went on as I sat and stared at him. Going on about how I would falter from exhaustion one day and get myself or others hurt. That he had done the same when he was younger. That he still did occasionally.

He was talking nonsense.

I defended myself quietly, informing him I knew exactly what I was doing and that I didn't need him to be bossing me around. He tried to speak his mind once more, but I grabbed the rest of my sandwich and walked out on him. He had no say in what in I did, no one did.

I had half expected him to follow me, but for once, he left things alone.

After shutting down the computer to sleep mode, I stood, stretched my arms and legs and then walked upstairs to see what I could muster of for some lunch. When I walked into the kitchen, I found Selina at the stove, boiling noodles and stirring a white cream in a saucepan. It took a moment for me to remember that Selina was normal and could fend for herself in the absence of Alfred.

"Hey, there, stranger. Thought I was going to need an excavation team to bring you up to the civilized world."

I smiled weakly, "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing, a little Fettuccini Alfred's-not-here-o. Hungry?"

I nodded slowly as I sought out plates and forks for us. Ten minutes later, we were seated at the counter top, twirling noodles and dipping garlic bread. She had left a half a serving in the pan and I asked, "For Mattie?"

"No, I roused her already, she ate a banana and some peanut butter then promptly fell asleep. Cass really tired her out; I'll have to send the girl a gift. That's for Bruce if I pour it down his gullet."

After finishing off our meal in silence, I took the dishes and rinsed them as Selina made up a dish for Bruce. As I loaded the dishwasher, I asked, "How is he? I haven't seen him since Thursday."

"Better, his system's still out of whack, but it's going to be. I still don't trust him moving around on his own though. But he is starting to get adventurous and sick of being in bed."

"That's a good sign."

"I suppose," she paused, "You want to come up? I'm going up right now."

After a sigh, I shook my head, "No, I've got a lot of work to do."

"You sure?"

I nodded and wiped my hands with a washcloth, "Yeah, maybe later. Give him my best," and I left her alone. Probably not the most chivalrous of my moves, but what had to be done had to be done. After I washed up a bit in the first floor bathroom, I returned to the cool solitude that only the Cave could offer me.

V

When I snuck into the bedroom, I set the still warm bowl of linguini on the end table and then checked on Mattie. After peering through the cracked door, I saw her in the crib, sitting and playing with her doll and her panther. Letting her be, I returned to Bruce's side.

Instead of turning the lights on, I settled for a bedside lamp to illuminate the immediate area. He moaned quietly and I slapped his thigh through the blankets, "Oh quit, you're not dying."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled, "Your guts aren't on fire."

I sighed and sat on the bed next to him, "You have a bottle of Codine on the bathroom counter with the same number of tablets in it the day it was brought here, so don't whine about it."

"Wasn't whining," he said as he sat up in the bed very slowly, "Just voicing my opinion."

"Well, I would love to hear your opinion after you have something to eat. Brought up some plain noodles, you think you can slop them back down the old food tube?"

He glanced over at the dish on the end table and then scratched at a suture on his arm. I glared at him as if to say "it won't heal if you don't stop picking at it" and he stopped. He pushed the covers off of his legs carefully and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, facing away from me. The few cuts he had on his back from the accident were sutured and well into the healing stage. Not even two days after he had been released, all bandages were removed and he refused to have them replaced.

That good old Bruce iron will.

"You okay?" I asked as he paused in the sitting position.

"Yeah," he sighed, "Need to take a shower. Smell like a foot."

I rose and walked around to his side, sniffed his hair and grinned before kissing his brow, "That you do. Come on, upsa-daisy."

I wrapped my arm around his back and offered for him to lean on me as he stood. After he was on his own two feet, I walked over and started running warm water in the bathtub. Standing for a shower was out of the question after six days on his back. By the time he joined me in the bathroom, the tub was full.

"Almost sent a search party for you," I grinned as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He had a scruffy beard that aged him by a decade, as did his still recovering haircut. The cut on his cheek was a little red but not as sore looking as the sutured gash on his brow. Amidst the numerous other wounds on his form, both old and new, it was truly no big deal. And that was what made it even worse.

I turned away as he removed his flannel pants and eased into the tub. In doing so, I retrieved a washcloth and a bar of mild antibacterial soap. I set a folded tile over the rim of the tub and sat on it. After dipping the towel in the water, I lathered the soap up and then softly scrubbed his back, shoulders and arms, carefully avoiding the angry wounds. As I did so, he found a safety razor and bottle of cream from the in-wall shelf next to the tub.

Before he started, I took them away from him, and he protested, "I think I can shave myself."

"I'm sure you can, but not with raspberry shaving lotion and my leg blade."

A smirk crossed his lips, "Oops."

When I gave him his razor and shaving cream, he went to work, relocating the strong jaw that was buried beneath the mess of dark gray fuzz. I left him to wash his lower half and found a clean robe and towel for when he was done in addition to a pair of slippers. And Alfred had been concerned leaving Bruce for the whole weekend...

I tried to help him out of the tub, but as usual, he refused. Not about to argue with him, I retrieved Mattie, who had still been playing quietly, and returned to the bedroom. We had brought her dolls, panther and a blanket with us so that we could go about playing on the floor space beside the bed. Bruce emerged from the bathroom in the robe a few minutes later and our daughter's head turned when he said, "There's my kitten."

She dropped her doll, rolled over onto her hands and knees before quickly pushing herself up to toddle over to him. He scooped her up and held her in his arms. She giggled in delight, repeating his name over and over. An hour earlier he had looked fresh from the grave, but right then and there, he looked like his usual self.

He brought Mattie over to the floor and reclined slowly, only wincing twice. Once the three of us were settled on the carpet, Mattie handed out toys for us to play with and then narrated quietly to herself. With her attention diverted I said, "Bruce I need to ask you a favor."

"Anything," he replied as Mattie moved to sit on his lap.

"This is a Bruce task, not a pointy-eared task, mind you."

He nodded as he held a cloth doll up next to Mattie's stuffed panther.

I spoke quietly and calmly, explaining the week he had spent outside of the real world in as much detail as I could muster. Events, places, times, literally the whole kit and caboodle. When I asked him the favor, he sighed deeply the way he does when he's uncomfortable but surprisingly he replied, "I'll do it," instead of his customary grumble.

He played with Mattie for a few more minutes, then got up, dressed in jeans and a dark sweater before leaving the room quietly. Leaving the noodles untouched.

"Your Daddy is a man on a mission, Mattie."

She lifted the panther, "Mah-mie pay kitt-ie."

I smiled, kissed the top of her head and took the panther generously before leaning over, "Mrrrooww."

V

Despite the fact that my body had been in agony all week, getting up and moving about was less painful than I had thought. My joints were stiff from inactivity and the muscles strained and screamed with each step, but quieted some once the blood was moving. By the bottom of the stairs, I was breathing a bit quickly in response to my anti-bed ridden campaign.

But despite how I felt, I knew he felt worse.

Selina's concern was suppressed but still present. Dick had mentioned similar troubles the other day when he had visited, but I had been half asleep and hardly inept enough to make light of such an important conversation. And as I made my way to the main hall, I recalled Alfred stating his worries to me just as I returned home from the hospital. And yet I had been too involved with Selina and myself and hadn't done anything about it.

The coolness of the cave sent a slight chill down my back and I was thankful that I picked the sweater. Lights flickered from below and I suddenly wondered if one of the halogens were faltering. As I neared the base of the steps, still concealed in darkness, I saw the main display monitor portraying moving images.

Tim stood fifteen feet away from the monitor bay, dressed in black shorts and had blindfolded himself. A training mat had been dragged from the training area thirty yards away as to provide a work place for the young man. As I stood and watched him perform several repetitions of a diverse array of open hand maneuvers, I recognized the stance and form of Shaolin. I counted as he performed eighteen Luohan Hands, Luohan Fists, Luohan Palms, and several Big Hong Fists, before a handful of Continuous Fists, and then six Harmony Continuous Fists.

Just as he began the five Animal Fists, he caught himself, stopped and cursed loudly. Bats shrieked from above and sought out deeper and quieter refuges in the cave. He removed the blindfold and walked over to the desk, mumbling to himself. He rewound the film stream and stared as the figure on the screen moved backwards. I took the diversion as an opportunity to step further into the cave and to hide in a crevice with a better point of view. When he stopped it and put it back into play, I recognized the documentary tape I had made of myself years ago, recording my methods and progress of training. They had been encrypted into the crays, thought to have been buried forever.

I had brought some out for easy reference for Cassandra, who had been quite the interested pupil. But those would be of no interest to Tim. He needed more to work from.

He studied the screen before reaching for the blindfold. Just as he was about to pull it back over his eyes, I cleared my throat, "It never looks right on screen. Always better in real life."

He jumped and spun around towards me, "Bruce, what are you doing down here?"

I walked over to him slowly, trying act casually as Selina suggested. I drew in a breath before replying, "It is my cave."

He nodded quickly, "Well, sure, but I thought you were in bed. Are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be. How about you?"

"Me? I'm fine, I wasn't the one you ate asphalt at forty-five miles per an hour."

"Touché," I replied as I sat at the console's single chair. My side had grown sore from the trip down and sitting helped a little. Not much, but at that point I took what relief I could.

He returned to the computer console and tried to hit the escape button to shut down the video reel. I held my hand up and blocked his. He started to apologize, "Bruce, I can explain, I was looking for---."

"Don't worry. I guess it's why I made them in the first place. For reference."

I looked up and watched a much younger and less scathed version of myself perform flawless Shaolin techniques, one movement moving fluidly into another. I had studied with a master in the Henan province for six months and the end result had surprised even myself. I had hardly been twenty at the time, fresh from travels around the world that had rejuvenated my once solemn soul.

He watched along with me.

After the video ended, I closed the file and turned to face him. His gaze had settled on the floor until I cleared my throat. Once our eyes were locked I said, "Tim, did you know that your determination was the main reason I took you on as a partner."

He shook his head, "Thought it was because I figured out your identity."

I smirked briefly, "That helped, but it wasn't the true reasoning behind it. The determination to find out who Batman was, to become Robin, to be your best has made you an invaluable member of this team." I rose slowly, paused and then set a hand on his bare shoulder, "Of this family."

A look of puzzlement came over his features and I offered comfort for I wasn't through with him, "As a result, it would be foolish for me to allow this determination to run yourself ragged to continue any further. It stops right here, right now."

"Bruce, I---"

I spoke harsher than I had intended to, "It is not open for discussion. No excuses, from what I've been told, your behavior of late has been on the verge of self-destructive. You are not a machine, you can not survive like that."

He spoke clearly and coolly, "You do."

I looked away from and to the blank monitor, recalling thousands of sleepless nights and days, no rest, no food, just pain and misery. Instead of giving him a bland excuse, I stated, "What I do is not always the best for others."

"But it might be for me. Why can't it be for me?"

Suddenly, he looked very young and very tired. I forced myself to get his eye contact again before replying, "Because what I do… is not always the best course. I made those documentaries to show that I had perfected yet another form. Another method. Another tool for this job. I never saw them as accomplishments for myself, but for the quest. Alfred always mused that I would never be content with my efforts because perfection was not satisfying to me. It only made me drive towards another goal to master it. And another. And another."

I walked away from him, towards the idle Batmobile. Tim was motionless, as if he had gone into shock. I wouldn't have doubted it. I hardly believed that I was telling him the things that passed through my lips.

When I spoke again, he had stepped forward to follow me, "And that's why I can survive the way I do. I perfected near self-destruction, Tim, and I very well could pass it on to you or Dick or Cassandra, but I won't. I've always allowed you to learn from your mistakes. Just as I had. But this is not a mistake I will grant you."

We stood together, staring off into oblivion.

After a few minutes he asked, "Bruce?"

I turned to face Tim. His face was lit in a bit of a smile, as if he had an ingenious plot brewing behind his blue eyes. "Yes, Tim?"

"Did you just admit that you make mistakes?"

Before I could reply "Yes he did!" was shouted from the stairs. Just as we looked up, we caught a glance of Selina trotting back up the stairs to the entrance in full retreat.

I helped him return the mats to the training area and then went about shutting off the lights. I told Tim to run upstairs to shower and dress, and that we would finish this later. He smiled, winked at me and then followed his orders.

Good soldier.

Good son.

The only light that remained reflected sharply off the glass case in the center of the main floor. I walked over and wiped the brass plaque with the sleeve of my sweater until it sparkled. After a long glance over the yellow cape and robin red uniform, I walked over to the base of the stairs and shut the light off.

I thought back on a how many times the Robin uniform had been bloodied because of my mistakes.

Lots of mistakes.

V


	18. Life Is Good: XVIII

Title: Life Is Good: XVIII

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Another fun dream sequence courtesy of Chris!

V

Ten was such a wholesome number.

Ten Tic Tacs. Ten doughnuts since a dozen would be too much. Ten reps of pressing two-fifty at a time. Ten day cruise. Size ten flip-flops.

But ten days left until the wedding was hardly wholesome.

In fact it was frightening.

It was Wednesday afternoon and I had finally snagged a day off from work. I had trudged through the day shift for a week and a half. The usual bank robberies, grocery store hold ups and of course old lady muggings that were common day practice on most cities were mastered by middle school thugs in Bludhaven. I felt like a truancy officer after three days of catching pint- sized criminals in the act of ridiculously "planned" crime sprees.

Back at the station, they had taken to call me Punkie Buster.

I enjoyed it as much as I could, but seeing how as soon as I would clock out, I had to head to Gotham to check on things, maybe see Babs and if it was needed, would don the cowl for a hour or so, beat up the more refined and aged criminals, then change into Nightwing's guise and finish off the wee hours in my city, and then finally, sleep an hour and then get up to start all over again…

I was not the happiest of campers. Hence my well deserved day off.

It had been decided for Bruce that even though he had mostly recovered from his injuries, there was no need for anything to happen to him before the wedding. Selina banned him from wearing the mask or any other disguise for that matter. The battle of wits had lasted for a week, with Selina being victorious after blowing the final and lowest of blows.

When Bruce called to inform me that my services would required be longer than planned, he had quoted her as saying, "And Mattie and I will be enjoying the Honeymoon and you can celebrate with your damned flying rats."

Poor guy.

I slept in until noon, rose groggily and stumbled to my bathroom for a quick shower and shave. After dressing in shorts and a tank top, I went about finding my poor apartment, washing load after load of laundry and scrubbing fossilized dishes until bubbles floated from my sink. At three- ten, I settled in for a large bowl of instant macaroni and cheese and a cherry cola as I slouched on the sofa and went into a Soap Opera coma.

Just as I began to doze off, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked quietly.

"Dick?"

Oh great. "Hi Bruce."

"You weren't at work."

A very observant individual, that World's Greatest Detective was...

"No I took it off."

"Good then you come to Gotham."

I sighed and made my way to the kitchen with my bowl, "What would I want to do that for?"

He cleared his throat then replied, "Can you... Just be up here at the Manor by six."

"For...?"

I heard a giggle in the background and then a shrill, child's voice, "Dahie tellie!"

Bruce paused, covered the receiver, "Yes, I'm on the phone, where's you mother?"

Mattie's voice repeated the announcement that her father was using the phone and then, "Icie baf..."

Bruce then said to her, "Oh, well go help her," then to me, "Selina's bathing the cat," as if I had asked and then continued, "Can you be here by six?"

"Sure."

He hung up after saying, "Mattie, no, shoes are not gloves."

I grinned and shut the phone off. Once I had learned how to walk on my hands, I would wear my father's shoes on my palms and "walk" around the circus in the hours before a performance. My mother would call out about how shoes were not gloves but my father would point out that my hands were now feet so they needed shoes on them. She would scowl at him, then eventually smile and shake her head, commenting that it was hard to tell which Grayson man was the child and which was the adult.

The good old days.

Just as sat back down to enjoy what was left of my mindless television viewing, the phone rang again. I picked up after the second ring with a smile, "Bruce, I'll be there at six, don't worry."

"Dick?" a voice replied that was not that of my pointy-eared mentor. But was a hero to me nonetheless.

"Uh, yeah, sorry Clark, Bruce just called, thought he was calling back."

"No problem, I called the, uh, police department, they said you had the plague."

I plopped onto the couch, "Yeah, the plague of my over achieving nature running out. So what can I do for you?"

"Lois was wondering-ow!" he remarked and I heard a female growl on the other line, "We were wondering if anyone needed any help, for the wedding I mean."

"Uh, not that I know of," I said, recalling last weekend's hectic image at Wayne Manor. Selina camped out in the library, every document related to her wedding in addition to a gallery of photographs and images that depicted what her wedding would look like plastered on tables, the carpet and even the bookshelves. Her wedding gown, in addition to the bridesmaids' and Mattie's dresses were locked in the deep recesses of her closet. The tuxes had yet to be picked up but had been fitted not even four days ago. Selina ranted about it every moment she possibly could. And Bruce would sit quietly, daughter in hand and had only one reply to offer her.

Yes, dear.

V

"Madam?"

Ms. Kyle had been standing quietly at the bay window, staring out into the back yard where Master Bruce and Miss Mattie were kicking around a soccer ball. Occasionally, the young child would trip after kicking the ball, falter to the grass and then look up at her father for comfort. He would smile and motion for her to get back up and after a bit of pouting she would stand up and then run after him.

She turned and faced me, tucking back a strand of black hair behind her ear. Seeing as she had been rather casual of late, spending her days in the Manor caring for not only her young child but her ailed fiancé as well, I was surprised to see her dressed in an ankle length blue silk skirt and a white fitted sleeveless blouse. Her feet wear nestled in Master Bruce's tan loafers that she favored wearing.

"Hi, Alfred," she smiled warmly before returning her gaze out the window. Master Bruce was on his back, holding the child high above him. He shook her body gently and even through the wind and birds, I could hear her giggles. After a moment, Ms. Kyle turned and seated herself on a pale green velvet couch. I sought refuge on a straight-backed chair with similar covering, mere inches from her side. "Would you care for anything to eat, or some tea perhaps?"

She drew a long breath, "Sure, tea would be nice. I'll wait for Bruce to come in to eat though." I rose and turned to leave the room when she stood as well, "I'll go with you."

"There is no need, madam, rest, I insist."

She hooked her arm with mine, "Nah, no rest for the weary, that's my new motto."

I smirked, "A similar saying has been mine for some time now, Ms. Kyle."

Once in the kitchen, she beat me to the stove and filled the stainless steel teakettle. Instead of quarreling with the lady of the house, I instead retrieved two teacups, saucers and spoons in addition to the cream and sugar. I set them on a serving tray and we awaited the whistle to signal.

"Do think it's going to go to hell?"

"I beg your pardon," I replied, utterly confused by her question.

"The wedding," she faced me, arms crossed over her chest, "Everything has gone wrong this last year, so it seems simply logical that the wedding would. Christ, Alfred, the worst injuries he's had in a long time were from a damned car accident."

I remained silent as she faced the sink and looked down at herself. The frustration and anger in her features faded and were replaced with concern and uncertainty. After a long, quiet moment, I stepped towards her and spoke once her eyes looked into mine, "Of which he has recovered from. Every path is strewn with obstacles, Selina. Master Bruce's path has a few more than others. That has not stopped him from overcoming them so that he could enjoy a life with the woman he loves."

She smiled slightly, "Or from getting hurt every three to six weeks."

"Ah, yes, the infamous 'occupational hazard.' Very few obstacles are safe in his life."

She leaned against the marble counter, "I was."

My brow arched with intrigue.

"What, I'm not worthy of being an obstacle? I tortured the poor man for years, have the claim to about half of a dozen scars on his body and will be enslaving him in ten days."

"You do prove a most interesting point, Ms. Kyle."

Just as the whistle of steam sounded, the service door opened to reveal two forms. Miss Mattie sat upon her father's shoulders as he ducked through the entrance and into the kitchen. One of her tiny hands clamped a handful of hair while the other was wrapped around his forehead.

"Look what the kitten dragged in," Ms. Kyle grinned and walked over to them.

Miss Mattie beamed, "Mah-mie!"

Master Bruce carefully slipped her off of his back and held her in his arms so that she faced her mother. When Selina took in how dirty the child was she commented, "Look at you, what did Daddy do, bury you in the dirt?"

"Bahl," her daughter replied and clapped her hands together.

"Were you playing with a soccer ball?"

The child giggled, "Bahl!"

She kissed the child's cheek, "Why don't you take her and get her cleaned up, we'll get lunch going."

He nodded in reply and made his way to the door, his steps were soundless which drew my attention to his sock clad feet. Ms. Kyle took the teakettle and proceeded to fill our cups as I ventured to the service door. After opening it, I looked out and saw two pairs of sneakers sitting side by side just outside the door. One pair was no bigger than my palm and was white with purple trim. The other pair was dark blue and three times larger.

Both were plastered with fresh lawn clippings and dirt.

I smiled to myself as I shut the door. I had groomed Master Bruce to never wear dirtied footwear in the house from a very young age. I recalled many Saturday afternoons where I found one small and one large pair of shoes beside the door after Dr. Wayne and Master Bruce had played outside.

Once orphaned, there were no more dirtied sneakers by the door for me to tend to.

Ms. Kyle asked, "Something funny, Alfred?"

After realizing that a smile had broke on my lips, I paused before facing her, "Ms. Kyle, I do believe we are well overdue for an afternoon of storytelling."

V

"He said no, Lois."

"What do you mean, he's just a kid, what does he know about weddings?" my wife asked as she put her hands on her hips. Although the day was well under way, she looked as if she had just dressed, wearing a knee length black skirt and a blue long sleeved blouse. The shoes were new, but I only knew because I had been there when she had purchased them. How many black high heels did she have? Obviously not enough.

I sat at my desk at the Planet, my sleeves rolled and tie loosened. I had just gotten off the phone with Dick, who was surprisingly enjoying a day off. I suddenly wished I could have the same luxury. Or at least a lunch break.

"I asked, and he said they don't need any help, everything is under control. And if I were you, I wouldn't barge in on them either."

She sat on the corner of my desk, a half-smile half-scowl on her face. It oddly reminded me of a look I had seen several times on Batman's face after he had conquered some undefeatable force. I suppressed the shudder and listened to her, "Clark, we've been through the whole wedding process. I think it is our duty as their friends to go a few days early to Gotham and help them get ready. Aren't you heroes supposed to help each other out. All for one, one for all?"

"That's the Three Musketeers, dear. Bruce is hardly a team player and hardly needs anyone's help. Even at his wedding."

I turned to continue typing my story for the evening edition. The Mayor's oldest son was on trial for drug trafficking and the trial's coverage had been absorbed by the Planet. Lois tapped my shoulder and prevented my progress.

"Why can't we go early, for fun. We already have the whole week off."

"What? Lois, I requested a four days off, not a seven day weekend!"

"Oops," she grinned, "Oh don't be a party pooper, Clark. Besides, we never go to Gotham and I want to see the museums and the art galleries."

"No, Lois, you don't. You want to waltz into Wayne Manor and say 'Surprise' and get me in trouble."

"Well that too," she commented as she looked away. After a moment, "Fine, I'll go early, on my own accord and you can stay here and pout. Deal?"

"No deal, Lois. Leave them alone. I bet they are both strung up enough, they don't need you on the agenda as well."

She mocked pain, "Clark, I wouldn't get in the way. Selina needs someone to support her, someone with experience and Bruce, well Bruce needs... Well, I would leave him alone. Alfred can deal with him."

I sighed and turned my chair so that I faced her, "Lois, did you really get all of next week off?"

She nodded.

"And I assume that you already have made reservations in Gotham."

"Flight arrangements too."

I glared at her but she shrugged innocently in reply.

"Lois, have you called them, to let them know?"

"Why would I have to call? This is America, I don't have to ask permission to travel. Besides, I thought it would be best if you did it."

I sat for a moment before reaching for the phone. Lois stood, kissed my cheek, "Thanks, Clark. Tell him we'll be flying in Saturday night and that I want to go out for dinner to some fancy schmancy Italian place. In a limo."

After dialing a number I rarely used, I listened to three rings. Then a rushed voice, "Hello?"

"Bruce?"

"Yes?" he replied, sounding as if he didn't even realize who I was.

"It's me, Clark."

He replied gruffly, "I know. What do you want?"

Before I could reply, I heard footsteps, the splash of water and soft infantile mumblings. "Are you busy, I could call back later?"

"Now's fine." His tone was easily read. Get to the point Farmboy.

"Um, well I was calling to let you know that Lois and I were flying into Gotham City Saturday night. She has reservation for a hotel in town, but I thought I'd call and let you know what we were up to. So you'd know."

He drew a breath, mumbled something incoherent and said, "Fine."

I had received acknowledgement from the Batman for intruding his city seven days before his wedding to Catwoman. Seven days earlier than necessary. Without thought, I blabbed, "Lois wanted to catch up on the city, like art and some other things, and she wanted to make sure that everything was in order for the fifteenth."

He spoke, but not to me, "Duckie stays in the tub, Mattie," then a big splash of water, "No, water stays in the tub too."

I grinned selflessly. The Big Bad Bat was not on the other end of the line. His distraction was not out of rudeness but out of a split attention between his daughter and me. I asked, "Bath time in the Wayne residence?"

He growled, "Don't you have a job or something?"

Despite his aggressive tone, I couldn't help but keep mine amiable, "How's the little flower girl?"

"Flowery," he replied, "Where are you staying?"

"I don't know, Lois kind of threw everything at me a few minutes ago. She took all of next week off for the both of us, got airline tickets and hotel reservations, then told me to call and inform you we were coming a little sooner than planned. I hope you don't mind too much."

Bruce said, "I was thinking she must have put you up to this."

"Don't tell her I told you, she'll kill me."

"Oh, I won't tell her. But I'm sure good old fashioned babysitting torture will set her right."

We chatted briefly until the conversation grew stale and uncomfortable and Bruce claimed he had to get Mattie out of the tub. He hung up after I said good-bye without returning the gesture.

Not even ten seconds after I returned the phone to the cradle, Lois was at my side, a can of cola in her hand, "Well, did he breathe fire?"

I stood and looked down at her curious smile, "Surprisingly no. But he would like to have a chat with you when we get in to town."

She shrugged, sipped from the can, "I can handle him. As long as it's over a heaping pile of garlic shrimp penne pasta, he can verbally abuse me all he wants. I don't see why you all cower in fear from him, he's really a big softie deep down."

I thought back on icy cold glares, harsh words and the calculated measures he had performed over the years. I thought back to heated arguments, voting him out of the League and seeing him with his true identity erased by a single bullet.

I wrapped an arm around Lois' back, "I'd like to see you call him that to his face."

"And I'd like to see you in a toga, you don't see me complaining," she stepped away and made her way to her desk, calling back, "Get back to work, Smallville, I've got to get out here to pick out a dress for the wedding."

I reclined to my own chair and resumed typing, "Yes, dear."

V

I didn't know why I was there, but I found myself in a nightclub. I liked them occasionally, usually going with the gang at school in search of female companionship. This particular one was new looking, with super lighting, extensive speaker systems and a blue tiled dance floor packed with writhing bodies of all shapes and sizes.

Dressed in loose dark jeans, wide leather belt and black muscle shirt, I searched the sea of dancers with a keen eye. I probably should have been on patrol, but it was summer break and Timmy needed some fun time.

Cassandra suddenly appeared next to me, wearing a shimmering strapless top and dark jeans that looked like they had been painted on. She had dark eye shadow and bright lip-gloss, accentuating already perfect features. She winked at me, grabbed a shot glass off of the bar and dumped it down her throat. She set it down, winked at me and then shimmied off to the dance floor.

As I watched her move away, a flash of color caught my eye. Towards the middle of the crowd, I saw the back view of a black haired woman with a body that was shaped like an hourglass. Her form was dressed in a royal blue dress that hardly reached her thighs, and knee high matching leather boots topped off the ensemble. She had good rhythm and danced provocatively to the latest dance mixes that blared out of the speakers. Her wide hips swayed and twitched in beat as her arms rose and fell in tune.

Cass called out my name and I shook my head before searching her out in the crowd. Oddly enough, she was mere inches from the woman in blue. As I weaved through the bodies of the dance floor, I caught glimpses of her blue dress and even saw flashes of her body and face. Some makeup, but it wasn't needed. In the deep recesses of my mind, I thought her green eyes were familiar but I dismissed it as I met up with Cass.

Not even a foot from her, my legs froze and my jaw dropped in disbelief.

The man that danced next to the woman garbed in blue was over six feet tall and was dressed in tailored black slacks and a form fitting black tee with a yellow Batman insignia over the chest. He was a handsome man in his late thirties with dark graying hair and piercing blue eyes. He danced awkwardly, like a teenager on his first date. The grin on his face mesmerized me long after I recognized him.

He glanced towards me and waved, "Tim, shouldn't you be on patrols?"

My mouth was as dry as cotton, but I managed, "Bruce!"

He continued dancing and began performing the hand jive as his feet tapped the tiled floor, completely out of beat. The woman in blue kept dancing to the music, which had suddenly changed to Eminem's "Without Me." I rubbed my eyes, popped my ears in hopes that I was seeing and hearing things. When I looked at Bruce's dance partner again, my throat constricted and I felt my heart drop somewhere in the vicinity of my ankles.

It was Selina. I had been ogling Selina Kyle. The Catwoman. Batman's fiancée.

Oh, Boy Wonder, this was too much.

I stood, as bodies writhed around me and stared at the two of them as they literally cut a rug before me. Selina's form in all her splendor dancing in ways I only saw on MTV and Bruce… looking like he was a reject from "Grease."

Suddenly, his fingers formed peace signs and he held them over his eyes, the fingertips just touching with the palms facing me. He then pulled them slowly apart, revealing his face, which had grown somber.

He repeated the odd maneuver and within seconds everyone in the club was doing it, adding in twists of their rears and wiggles of their bodies. Bruce called over the bass's beat, "I call it the Batusi, what do you think?"

I turned away suddenly and dashed off the floor and made my way to the nearest exit. The alley offered dark, damp air and odd comfort. The door behind Bruce and me opened stood there, his head bopping to the song from inside. Before he could speak, I yelled, "What the hell is going on, Bruce?"

"The Batusi?" he asked quizzically.

"Yes, and you even being here, and with Selina!"

"Tim, you seem upset."

I was beyond baffled and simply nodded as I stared at him.

He shook his head and walked towards me, a knowing look on his face. I was further shocked to see him rest a hand on my shoulder. "You see, Timmy my boy, there is a point in every young crime fighter's life when... Well, let's see, how did I explain this to Dick?"

"You're firing me?" I cried out suddenly, with sudden images of Dick having the mask of Robin taken from him.

Cass and Selina emerged through the door, but Selina wore her Catwoman suit and her tagalong wore the guise of Batgirl. Selina leaned against Bruce's shoulder and licked his ear while Cass sauntered over and tried to mimic the act on me. After pushing her away, I closed my eyes and kept telling myself that this was not happening.

Bruce chuckled a chuckle that eerily sounded like he had inhaled some Smilex, "No, no, I would never fire you. We need to keep you around, seeing how smart you are and everything. But anyway, no this is about growing up, Tim."

We locked eyes before he continued, "You see Tim, when you get to a certain age, and you have certain feelings, you know, below the utility belt. Special tingling feelings..."

"AGGGHHH!" I screamed.

When I opened my eyes, I was in my bedroom at home, safe and far from any nightclub and blue leather boots and tingling feelings. I glanced at my alarm clock to see it was quarter of five. I had decided on a nap a little after one and had been asleep ever since.

After two courses in psychology, I was no expert in dream theorizing, but I knew mine had been severely messed up. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. After splashing water on my face and wetting down my pillow-skewed hair, I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy but not bloodshot. No fever. Tongue and gums were nice and pink. No physical reason to have such a bizarre and delirious dream.

I paused and then raised my hands to my face; my finger formed into peace signs and held them in front of my eyes. I quickly dropped them and shook my head, "Too weird," I told my reflection.

Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in khakis and a blue tee shirt declaring "Prozac. Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't." Once I had donned a pair of debilitated leather sandals, a splash of cologne, I was jogging down the main stairs and headed for the front door. My father and stepmother had gone into town for dinner and a movie. Fine by me, I had plans of my own.

Although the walk to Wayne Manor was less than twenty minutes, I was still groggy from my dream filled nap. After a walk around to a storage building on our property, I selected a bright green golf cart and carefully navigated out of the building before flooring it. After hitting a few bumps and hills, I decided there should be golf cart driving added to the X Games.

Instead of being rude, I slowed my speed as I entered Wayne property, not about to dig up the manicured grass. After parking next to the main garage, I turned the cart off and pocketed the keys. I saw three cars parked nearby and suddenly wondered if I was the last one to arrive.

As directed the night before, I walked around to the rear of the house where the stone floored deck was, complete with walls made of matching stonework. Several tables had been set and dressed in white linen sheets. I smelt the food long before I saw the outdoor cooking area, which was enclosed with the same stone that made up the patio. Alfred stood next to it, rotating and checking the foods that sizzled above the flames. I wafted the air towards myself. Yum, grilled lamb chops and something with onions.

At one of the tables, Barbara, Jim and Selina sat, drinking what appeared to be wine and talking with soft voices and bright smiles. Leslie was by Alfred peering over his shoulder and trying her best to distract him. The rest of the group, however, was not present. Before I could ask where they were, I heard Dick's voice call out "No!"

Interesting.

I walked around the deck and spotted four forms running about the grassy slopes of the rear yard. It was roughly an acre, lined with ancient trees, hills, and a pair of fenced in tennis courts. The group had designed their own field out of a lot that was less then thirty feet by fifteen with four white cones. Dick, Cassandra and a giggling Mattie were huddled on one end while Bruce stood patiently at the other.

Outnumbered, but hardly concerned.

I jogged over, waving at Dick who had finally seen me. "Good, we have a new second string QB," he laughed.

V

As I chewed the final piece of my chop, Bruce tapped his glass with the end of his spoon. I swallowed, wiped my moustache and looked up at him. Barbara was to my left and reached over to brush a crumb off my shirt. I looked down and she said, "Missed a spot, Dad."

When I looked up again, Bruce began, "As you know, the, uh, wedding is in ten days. Nine, actually seeing how this one is nearly over."

Dick snorted, "Ah the night is young."

I smirked until Bruce glared at Dick. Then all attention was back front and center. After a beat of silence, Mattie broke then tension and said "Tay-toe."

We all looked to see that she had squished her piece of baked potato on her hand and was offering it to her father. He smiled briefly, then turned serious before leaning over, "Daddy has a potato, you need to eat yours."

She replied by putting it on his chin.

That time, even Bruce smiled. It reminded me of James, splattering creamy peas all over my moustache when he was just a baby. Barb had laughed until tears were in her eyes, because despite my efforts, bits of green had been stuck and I went to work with a tinted moustache.

I was brought back to the present when Bruce said, "Anyways, nine days left until the wedding. The dresses and suits are ready, the flowers, the priest, the music, the caterers and everything else is ready."

Alfred sighed at the word "caterer."

Leslie elbowed him.

Ah, love.

"Does anyone have anything to say?" Bruce asked, with all the finesse of a businessman.

Dick nodded, "Are we, um, allowed to, uh, celebrate the night before the wedding. As in the women having a party and the, uh, men having a party?"

I suppressed a laugh. Barbara had asked me about any intentions of throwing Bruce a bachelor party. I promptly said no, because it was something Bruce wouldn't enjoy. She had suggested I had a mock hostage situation and that he would love it, even if there weren't strippers.

Dick, who had been in the other room, had overheard it and thought it be better if the strippers were the hostage takers.

After a few laughs and comments, Bruce denied any said parties.

Selina then spoke, "I second it."

Tim spoke up, "All opposed?"

Dick raised both hands and squirmed in his seat.

"Anyone opposed? Everyone's for it?" Tim continued, a serious look on his young face.

Dick growled, waved his arms and then settled for defeat.

After asking if there were any more problems and receiving no answer, Bruce nodded and as if commanded, we all resumed our meals. I selected another small chop and began to cut at the meat quietly as Tim asked, "So how did the doctor's appointment go?"

Someone dropped a fork and Dick choked down a mouthful of bread. Bruce chewed methodically and glanced at Selina. She shrugged then said, "It was fine. Ultrasound was pretty clear, some residual bruising but nothing major. Almost as good as new, right honey bunch?"

He mumbled something and drank wine.

"Still sore, though, Mattie was laying on him last night when he was reading to her and she elbowed him pretty good, almost made him cry," Selina continued despite a warning look from her betrothed.

To interrupt things and because I knew Bruce wouldn't dare growl at me, I asked, "How long are you out of commission?"

It took him a moment to realize I had been the one to ask the daring question. His face softened before my eyes before he replied, "Until after the wedding. No... Unnecessary risks," he finished after glancing at his fiancée.

"Does she let you drive?" I pushed.

He smirked and fingered the rim of his water glass, "Only if I wear my helmet."

Dinner ended with dishes of orange sorbet topped with whipped cream. Barbara commented that according to her diet plan, like she needed a diet, that you could have as much whipped cream as you wanted because it was counted as a freebie. Bruce pointed out the level of calories and listed the main ingredients until Selina slapped his arm and said, "Whipped cream is good for you, Barb, don't listen to him."

After some after dinner talk, Tim left to head home and Dick, Barbara and Cass headed out after loving and riling up Mattie. The child was running circles around her parents as they left and Selina snatched her up before she fell over her own two feet.

We had relocated to the den as the sun set and the bugs revealed themselves. Alfred had brought out coffee and as much as I loved his Columbian Roast, I was stuffed with free whipped cream. I managed to take in half of a cup before Selina rose with a drowsy child and bid everyone good night. She paused at Bruce's side and touched his shoulder. Before she moved on, he reached up and touched her hand gently.

Ah, love.

Within moments, Leslie and Alfred had also risen, removed cups and left the room. Leaving the two of us alone. For the first time in a long time. Long, long, long time. I hadn't really seen much of him since he had been in the accident, and that had been when he was half-asleep in a hospital bed. And then, two nights later, Batman showed up in my office just as he had the last time Bruce had danced with death.

For the first time in far too long, he spoke first, "Work been busy?"

I smiled, "Not too bad, actually. You heard about the school shooting?"

He nodded, "Had a check sent for security in public schools. And one to the family of that little girl."

"Damn shame. We haven't had much trouble in the schools since that bomb at Jefferson. Lucky to catch that one, though, with all those chemicals it could have been a rough one."

He nodded, recalling the same incident a few years back. A failing student had tried to exact revenge on his teacher. The boy's father had been arrested numerous times for arson but had never been found guilty when he went to court. Seeing as he wouldn't be a rocket scientist, the man had tutored his child in how to exact revenge through violence.

We went silent and after a moment, he glanced to the hall, fought with something in his head and then stood suddenly, "Jim, I want to show you something."

I stood as well, not surprised he'd want to be active instead of sitting and chatting. I half suspected he would take me to the library or tour a bit of the house. But instead he led me to a massive grandfather clock that stood in the main hall. It was a masterpiece and quite the sight to see. But it was still a clock.

He stood in my way and touched the hands of the clock, adjusting the time that read on its face. I heard a clicking noise and watched in awe as the clock shifted on hidden hinges. I stood, utterly confused as he turned slightly and looked at me. I noticed his jaw was clenched and his brow was furrowed. He then faced away and walked into the narrow entrance that had been concealed by the clock.

I had no choice. I followed him.

The darkness was overwhelming but he moved forward without any trouble. I knew he had traveled this narrow path thousands of times. Hundreds of thousands of times. I heard the shrill cry of something damned and airborne. Felt the flutter of wings far above my head.

He paused suddenly and after a flick of his wrist lights flashed suddenly and before me I saw something I had imagined in dreams for years. Granite stairs led the way down to a vast underground lair, which still retained the atmosphere of the cavern with random rock formations. I spotted a computer area, a medical bay and what appeared to be a laboratory and beyond that a training area. My eyes caught a reflection of light off of a glass case housing an old Robin uniform.

"The Batcave," I muttered without thinking.

V

I had just turned to the sixth chapter of the new Grisham novel when Bruce opened the door soundlessly. I pretended to ignore him as he made his way to the bathroom. After badgering him about taking his pain medication all week, he had blown up at me and told me in not so many words that he could take care of himself. Instead of making it a big deal, I accepted the fact that he was tired, sore and had been struggling with his forced break from life.

I kissed his flushed face and said, "Yes, dear."

He had suddenly about-faced last week, going from needy and mopey to independent and agitated. He schooled Tim in the Cave during the day and read over files at night. I knew he had started exercising but I had warned him not to overdo it. His post-op care had specified how excess strain would damage the internal sutures and if he wanted to end up on the operating table again he was free to disobey it.

However, no matter what he was doing at night, he would stop, come all the way upstairs just to put Mattie to bed and to check in with me. Real suave. Racking up brownie points the week before we were to be married.

When he returned, he wore a pair of silk pajama pants and one of his loafers. He looked at me, his eyes emitting accusations. I pretended to ignore him which forced him to ask, "Where is my other shoe?"

"What other shoe?" I asked without looking up.

"The one that matches the shoe on my foot."

"Oh," I replied, finally glancing over, "Don't know. Mattie was playing with them earlier, she probably hid it somewhere. You have other pairs, wear them."

He sat on his side of the bed retrieving a bottle of aloe form the bed table's drawer, "What is it with you two taking my loafers. I like this pair. They fit."

With his back to me, I watched as he rubbed aloe on the healing scars on his chest and arms. There were a few on his back and he tried to reach them. After a sigh, I practiced for the doting wife role and put my book down and slid over to him. "Give me the bottle."

"I can do it," he said quietly.

"Bruce, your arms reach only so far, give me the bottle."

He was about to contest when I dug a claw in between two of his ribs. He flinched slightly and through back the bottle without a word. As I applied it carefully, he asked, "How did Mattie go down?"

"She was a little fussy, missed her Daddy."

He sighed, "Was going to come up, but Jim and I were talking."

"Ah."

"It was important."

"I see."

"Selina."

"Bruce."

He turned as I was dabbing a sore on his neck and it ended up being splotched on his mouth. I contained my laugh as best as I could and said, "Sorry."

I half expected him to wipe it off and scowl at me, but to my surprise he leaned over and tried to kiss my mouth. I cried out and tried to push him away, "No, keep it to yourself." I slipped on the covers and was on my back as he crawled over top of me, putting his arms on either side of me.

"No where to go now," he commented as he descended towards me. I squirmed so that when he made contact, the aloe landed on my cheek. He laughed finally, and wiped his face and mine with his hand. Once he was clean, I reached up and kissed him.

"Mmm," I said, "Aloey-fresh."

Before he could reply, we both heard Mattie's cry. It was not one of fear or pain, but one of need. I rolled out from under him and went off to get her, even as Bruce already made his way towards the door. The second she saw us at her doorway, her cries faded and only sniffles and whimpers could be heard.

He picked her up as I turned the lights on, "What's the matter, kitten?"

She cried a bit louder and he began to rub her back as he held her closely. I walked over and kissed the crown of her head. She turned to face me, reached out with a hand but then drew it back to Bruce. Usually he would rock her in the chair until she fell asleep but he nodded towards the door and we returned to our room.

She clung to him as he pulled down the blankets. Since he had no shirt, she locked on to short hairs of which were not designed to be pulled. I got into bed first after shutting off the main light and leaving the bedside lamps illuminated. He handed her off and got in as well.

After a few moments of rubbing her back and talking to her, she settled and seemed to drift in and out of sleep. Bruce studied her intently until I reached over and touched his face. He looked up and smirked.

As his eyes drifted back to her, he said, "Should put her back."

I shook my head and pulled the sheet up to cover Mattie's back, "Let her sleep for a bit, then put her in bed."

He thought on it before nodding. We watched her sleep quietly for several minutes before he said, "Lois and Clark are coming in early for the wedding."

"When?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. I knew Clark somewhat from his visits, and had only met Lois once. When I saw their names on Bruce's half of the guest list he had commented that they would be the only reporters allowed.

He sighed and mumbled, "Saturday."

"This Saturday?" I asked.

He nodded, "Lois wants to catch up with the city, see some sights. But she can only fake that for about a day so they will probably end up here for most of the week."

"Bruce," I sighed as I sat up.

"What, I can't tell them not to come."

"Aren't you their boss?"

He smirked, "I own the Planet, I don't own them." I sat there, staring at him until he spoke up, "Besides, you are always telling me to be social and not 'fake social', so now that I am being cooperative and friendly, you disapprove?"

I had wanted something I could argue with, but he made a good point. Before I could reply, he sat up as well and picked Mattie up. When he had dropped her off in her room and returned, I had the lights off and was lying on my back. He got in, moved towards me, tried to hold me and when I moved away he asked, "What?"

I scowled, "You're all covered in aloe."

He grinned, then quickly wrapped his arms around me. I finally broke free and faced him as he whispered, "Now you are too. If we're going to be married, we have to share everything."

I kissed his neck, nibbled his ear and whispered back, "Not everything, you keep those gray hairs to yourself, bubs."

V

"What are you getting them?" Dick's voice came over the comm. link.

I sat at the computer bay, desperately trying to find something for the boy to do so he would leave me be. So far, after two hours of patrols, he had only been challenged with a few loitering kids, some pathetic muggings and a burglar who had been attacked by the resident's Springer Spaniel.

"I'm not telling," I replied as I switched the frequency on my scanner.

"I've got a proposal for you, my dear. How about we go in together and get them one big gift?"

After a moment I replied, "You haven't picked out a gift have you?"

He whined, "Babs, the man has everything ever invented and if Selina wanted something she could ask him to get it or go out and steal it herself."

I laughed, "That is no way to talk about your soon to be step-mother." I heard some heavy breathing and fast paced footsteps. He was running. "Trouble?"

"Nah," he puffed, "Getting some speed for some back flips."

After shaking my head in disbelief, I reminded myself the kid grew up in a circus. It wasn't fair to expect him to be normal. After spending most of his afternoon and evening in Gotham, he decided he would spend the night in Bludhaven, hoping for some serious action after his day off. Unfortunately, he was bored to death and was practicing acrobatics on the roof of a warehouse.

"So are you going to tell me?"

"No, Richard, I have my gifts done, you are on your own."

He sighed, whimpered and then moaned, "What did you get? Just so I know what not to."

"No, so you can get the same thing and claim you bought it months ago."

After a beat, "That too."

He signed off a few minutes later after a fire was called in at the athletic center a few blocks away. I monitored the calls, watched news programs and then sought out the Gotham Gang.

When I signed on to Robin's frequency I caught the tail end of him speaking, "... And it was so bizarre, he called it the Batusi and then the whole club was doing it."

"The what?" I blurted.

He gulped air, "O, how about we don't eavesdrop?"

I apologized then said, "You two doing anything constructive?"

Batgirl turned her link on, "No. Talking. Funny dreams."

"Ah, well then how have patrols gone?"

Robin spoke quietly to Cass, telling her that we didn't have to "tell her everything" and then spoke to me, "So far it's been pretty quiet. Guess Spring Fever has caused the bad guys to plant flowers or something."

I gave them a few hot spots to check on, told them Nightwing would be in Bludhaven for the rest of the night and to call me if they needed anything. After they had signed off, I spoke aloud to myself, "Batusi?"

After shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I moved to the kitchen and found an orange soda in the fridge that Dick had left. Usually I was a coffee girl, but a soda would be much easier than having to make coffee. And instant was not even an option.

When I looked at the clock above my stove, it read a little after one. I wondered if Bruce was still awake. Having him out again had lead to a bit of withdrawal. There was nothing better than to be almost settled in for a night of monitoring only to have tall, dark and gloomy appear out of nowhere and ask what was going on in his city.

Wednesday night. All the good TV shows were long over. The heroes were handling things just fine. Nothing left for a sweet, innocent cyber shut in to do...

Soda in hand, I retraced my path to the computer bay and pulled up my personal files on one display, keeping the other three open to receive anything from Nightwing, Robin or Batgirl. After cracking my knuckles and flexing my wrists I went at the keyboard and called up a file I hadn't opened in far too long.

"We meet again," I grinned as the enemy's image formed in front of me. The screen darkened to black with a white line down the middle. Two smaller white lines were on the left and right edges of the screen and a small white dot began moving slowly from side to side.

I was the Oracle, Queen of the Information Super Highway, Technology Wizard, Cyber Master.

Closet Pong addict.

V


	19. Life Is Good: XIX

Title: Life Is Good: XIX Part 1

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V Here Comes The Bride V

As the alarm came to life at 6:35, I reached over to nudge Bruce and mumbled, "Turn it off." When my fingertips met a pillow, I sat up and stared at the spot beside me, the alarm still buzzing in my ears. "Bruce?"

I reached across the bed to the nightstand, slapped the off button and allowed my eyes to adjust to the early dawn darkness of the bedroom. I made out the faint outlines of the dresser, the sofa by the windows and the bathroom door. But no Bruce.

After I turned a bedside lamp on, I saw a cream colored envelope with Bruce's handwriting depicting: "Mrs. Wayne". I grinned as I recalled my own note I had left for Bruce, although I had written "Mr. Kyle" on his.

Along with all the assurances we had taken to allow the wedding to roll on without tragedy, Alfred had physically separated us at just before midnight, taking Bruce down a floor and three rooms over for him to sleep in. He had grumbled and pouted about it but finally obliged just so he could get to bed. Neither one of us had found much rest in the week before the fifteenth, not out of anxiety, but the fact that there was no time.

I opened the envelope and read to myself: "Your green eyes... all I see is your green eyes. They fill me with who you are, Not this façade you put on for others. I'm not in that show. I'm looking into who you are, You are beautiful."

A grin spread across my lips and I stood slowly while I finished reading, thinking about him sitting at his oak desk, writing with the precision of a neurosurgeon, "I listen to your voice with tranquility of soul, And look into what lies ahead with uncertainty. You look back and flash a grin, Everything is all right. You're by my side, and I am happy. Am I the one for you? Maybe yes, maybe no. But you are who I love, And love you I will."

I read the poem again, sniffed the paper gently and set it on the dresser. As I went about showering, I held my emotions in rather well. I was to be married by sunset to a man who was my everything. With meditation, herbal teas and a punching bag, I had managed to keep my cool for the entire week, not falling victim to the pre-marital turmoil that raged within me. Everyone had been very supportive, saying that nothing was going to go wrong.

For the most part, I believed them.

"Damn," I growled. I had been shaving my left leg when my foot had slipped. Red appeared and dribbled down my leg before I could press a washcloth over the cut. Once the flow ended, I resumed shaving, with extra caution, and put off any thoughts for my own sake.

It wasn't until I had stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel that I realized what had just happened was an omen. I couldn't even shave without blood being spilled, what would happen during our wedding? After a moment's thought, I dismissed it to my own clumsiness and fatigue, burying the nagging paranoia deeper in the back of my mind.

Then my pinkie nail caught on the towel and ripped.

After donning slippers, I raced out of the bathroom and headed for the safety of the carpet as images of me falling on my ass on damp tiled floors danced in my head. I had been moving so quickly that I had failed to see Isis as she trotted through my path.

Her shrill cry was horrific as I stepped on her foot. I stumbled over her and caught myself on the dresser corner, my eyes level with Bruce's card. Before reaching over to cuddle with my frazzled cat, I suddenly wondered how Bruce's morning was proceeding.

Knowing him, he was still snoring away and wouldn't even roll out of bed until an hour before the ceremony.

Although hesitant, Isis slowly walked over to me, over exaggerating her injury and mewing in pain. I picked her up, rolled her onto her back and cradled her in my arms, "There, there, darling, I'm sorry, but you need to watch where you're going." She cried once more and then began to purr quietly.

The phone rang and I set the cat on the floor before walking over to answer, "Hello?"

"Selina, it's Barbara."

As I watched Isis trot out the door, I yawned, "Aren't you here a little early?"

She laughed quietly, "Leslie's been here since four-thirty checking over the flowers. And Alfred's been glued to the Weather Channel since Dick and I got here ten minutes ago."

A sudden weight landed deep in my chest, "Why is he watching the weather?"

She sighed before answering, "They are now calling for a forty percent chance of rain."

I growled, "It was fifteen last night!"

"Don't claw the messenger. Anyways, there's not a cloud in the sky as of now and if the wind goes more West than Northwest, it will blow right over us. Oh, excuse me," she covered the phone and said, "Hi Clark," then back to me, "So, you need any help yet?"

I glanced at the clock, which read 7:01. What was it with everyone being so eager to get things rolling? "Um, I just showered, so I can't do my hair, it's too early to get dressed and I still have to check on Mattie."

Then Dick's voice sounded in the background, "Mattie that was my muffin!"

After a sigh of relief, "I guess I don't have to check on her."

V Here Comes the Groom V

Despite a sleepless week, I was up by five and doing one handed pushups on the balcony facing the back field. The American Weather Service had updated their weather report and it didn't look too promising.

After a set of crunches and sit-ups, I called it quits and headed for the shower. On the bathroom sink, I noticed a white envelope with "Mr. Kyle" written on it. A smirk broke out on my face as I opened, catching a whiff of flowery perfume and found a CD with a purple Post It instead of a love letter.

I read the single word on it aloud: "Play"

Then I said "Ah," as the tiny scrap sliced a paper cut on the edge of my finger.

After involuntarily putting my injured finger in my mouth, I walked over to the bed table that held a lamp, a half empty glass of water and a small stereo. After inserting the disc, I obeyed Selina's order and pressed "play".

A man's voice declared, "Love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong! All you need is love!"

And then a complaining woman spoke, "Please, don't start that again."

When the man continued, he was singing boldly, sans music, "All you need is love..."

"A girl has got to eat!" she interrupted.

"All you need is love..." he pushed on.

"She'll end up on the street!"

He sang louder, "All you need is looo-oove!"

As I lowered the volume, I shook my head and returned to the bathroom, thinking how odd Selina could be. When I had washed, rinsed and toweled off, I heard a knock at the door. As I retrieved a blade and a can of shaving cream I said, "Come in, Dick."

I heard him mutter, "How does he do that?" before walking over and saying, "Well, you're looking chipper. What's with the chick music?"

I shrugged and lathered my jaw. Despite the hour, I was hardly surprised to see him. He had been commuting the sixty-odd miles from Bludhaven after he finished shifts at the station and did his best to help out over the last week. He and Barbara had been assigned the joint tasks of confirming guests, reporting to the caterer and organizing the rehearsal dinner. Anything to keep them busy.

"Damn," I muttered as I felt the blade catch on the skin of my neck.

Dick looked over and smiled, "Now why'd you go and do that?"

I grumbled something about being preoccupied as I pressed a washcloth to the small cut. Once the flow ebbed away, I finished shaving carefully and asked, "Where's Barbara?"

"Downstairs. Lois and Clark showed up so her and Lois are making sure the bathrooms are properly supplied with mints and towels and Clark is watching Mattie. Alfred and Leslie are doing one more check to make sure the flowers are right and have been patiently waiting for the caterers to arrive with the chairs. Tim will be over around eight and Cassandra is sleeping in the den," he spoke quickly, his eyes shifting position every five words and his fingers twitched in tempo with his voice.

He was nervous.

After I washed my face and dried it off, I moved to walk out of the room. Unfortunately, my big toe, unprotected since my loafers were in the master bedroom, decided to catch on the bath mat. I felt a sliver of the nail rip off as I continued and growled quietly as I finally made my way over to him, "It's okay, Dick. Calm down."

He stammered, "I am calm. You should calm down, that's who needs to calm down, I'm not the one getting married today, you are, man, so just calm down..." as he followed me out of the bathroom.

I donned a cotton robe and tossed the discarded towel over the back of a chair. He stood by my dresser, fidgeting. As much as I enjoyed having Dick in my life, I couldn't stand it when he was restless. In his youth, stakeouts had been torture. A twelve-year-old boy trapped in a grown man's body. After sitting on the edge of my bed, I asked, "Something wrong?"

"Uh, no."

And I was uptight about my emotions.

Before I could question him further, Alfred tapped on the door and proceeded to enter with a tray of coffee. As he set the tray on the end table beside the radio that still emitted the bizarre love song, he spoke, "Good morning, Master Bruce. How are we faring this morning?"

"He cut himself," Dick blurted out.

Alfred's eyes narrowed suddenly as he scoured my form. He must have spotted the nick on my neck because he commented, "A grooming mishap with a safety razor. Who would have thought it possible."

A small smile crept onto my lips. When I had begun shaving as an adolescent, he had taught me with a straight razor. I never took to it, unfortunately, and fell in with the everyday "modern fools" as he called them, and used the disposable blades of a safety razor. He never truly got over it.

He moved closer to me, glanced once more at the wound and then handed over a cup of coffee. I nodded my thanks and sipped carefully.

I hadn't noticed that after Alfred had left the door open, Isis had made her way into the room. I called over to her and she slowly walked over, her tail twitching with each step. Her form seemed relaxed but her eyes glowed with emotion. Probably had been locked out of Selina's room. Kitties and $6500 wedding dresses do not mix well.

Alfred said he was preparing breakfast and that I was allowed to come downstairs anywhere between seven thirty and eight and that Selina would be eating from eight to eight thirty. Traditions and their humble curses had Alfred watching out for every threat.

I was about to say I wasn't going to eat and that Selina could go down whenever she wanted when I felt claws dig into my back. I lurched forward as Isis climbed my back and hopped onto my left shoulder, a movement that unfortunately off set my arm, which was attached to the hand that held a scalding cup of coffee.

As the hot liquid seared the flesh of my legs, I growled and felt the sudden urge to toss the damned cat out the window. Instead of slaying my bride's most treasured possession, I simply growled at Dick to get me a towel.

A great day, I kept thinking, It was going to be a great day.

V And now the Maid of Honor V

"Alfred, sit."

"I beg your pardon, madam."

I glared at him as he rearranged the guest book table in the main entry hall. He had already done so five times and it was beyond perfected. "I am going to eat, you are going to eat, we are going to eat, now."

After he carefully tilted the base of the flower vase, he stepped back, glanced over it once more then turned, "Leslie, there is no time for quarreling. There is much to do with very little time to do it in."

I stepped over, took one of his hands and squeezed, "Like what?"

"The guest restrooms need to be prepared."

"Barbara and Lois are doing that."

"Master Bruce needs his morning coffee."

"He's a grown man," I replied.

He wavered for a moment, "The caterers are late, I have to call once more--- ."

"You just called five minutes ago," I interrupted, "They are on the way."

I watched as he tried his best to come up with another excuse but when he didn't, I hooked my arm with his and lead him to the kitchen. In the breakfast nook, he had set up a buffet for everyone to pick at during the morning. I was surprised to see Clark there, sitting and watching as Mattie sat in her high chair, talking to him as she poked a piece of scrambled egg.

He looked up and smiled, "She's quite the talker."

"She loves to talk, don't you sweetie?" She looked up at my voice and smiled. "Did Bruce ever tell you what her first word was?"

He shook his head, a flash of sadness came over his features, "No, Bruce and I don't talk, much."

"Ah, don't let it get you down," I commented and selected an orange from the fruit basket, "He's given me the cold shoulder ever since he 'grew up'. I always treat him like he's regular old Bruce, eventually he softens up, remembers that I am not one to be messed with," I paused as a small smile crept onto his face, "Anyway, you'd never guess it, we were at the dinner table on Thanksgiving and she was precious, as the old codger over there was dishing out pie, she said 'Tankie Alfred.'."

A full smile grew from its smaller predecessor.

When I looked over to Alfred, to see his proud smile trying to break free, I was partly surprised to see him placing coffee on a tray. I walked over, "Alfred, no. Eat."

He shook his head, "Tradition cannot be foiled with, Dr. Thompkins. I am already fifteen minutes late."

I touched his shoulder as he looked at me sternly. Trying to act mean. Silly old man, "Alfred, he's probably still sleeping. Or showering. Besides, Dick just went up to talk to him, you might want to give them some time alone."

He shook his head slowly, and followed me over to the table. He sat beside me, straight and proper, watching Mattie's every move. I shook my head and Clark spoke to break the uneasy silence, "So, is there anything I can do, to help. I mean Lois can do the crafty things, but if there's anything for me, I'd be happy to do it."

I smiled warmly, "Actually everything is done until the caterers arrive. Then we have to set up the chairs, the flower arrangements and the alter outside."

"But if it rains---." Alfred spoke.

"It's not going to rain," I interrupted.

He looked like he was going to speak up when Mattie dropped her spoon and it clanged one the floor. I went to get a napkin to wipe it as Clark fetched the utensil. With our combined efforts, Mattie had her spoon back, which she probably would only drop again. She had yet to see either of her parents and as much as she loved everyone else, there was only so much she could handle with them being gone.

Bruce had considerable concern for when they left for the Caribbean the next morning. They would be gone for seven days, and he was certain that it would crush Mattie's heart. Selina said she would be fine. After two months of deliberation, it was decided that they would go, but would return if anything happened. In somewhat preparation, their daughter had been spending more time with her other family members. Alfred would remain at the Manor for the duration of their leave, unless I could snag him for a few days, but Barbara had volunteered to take Mattie for most of the week, with Alfred and I taking her for the remainder.

Thinking of my quirky beau, I looked over to see his chair empty. I then saw his back as he carried the tray out the door and headed for the service elevator.

Well, he did sit.

For three minutes.

I sighed and sat beside Clark once more as he spoke, "He never rests, does he?"

"Where do you think Bruce gets it?"

He smirked, and looked at Mattie once more. I suddenly wondered if he and Lois were ever going to have a family. They way he looked over Bruce's child said that he would make an incredible father. Before I could ask how Metropolis had been, he spoke, "It's so hard to believe he's getting married. That he has a family. As long as I've known him... I never saw this coming."

I nodded, "He has a whole new look on life. Even after he and Selina finally got together, he was still the same person. A little less stress in his life, but other than that, nothing was different. And then when he was shot..." I looked down at my hands, remembering every stitch I had ever done on his body. And how that it had been near impossible to keep my hands from shaking on that particular night.

"He's better for it, I think. As hard as it was for him to come back, it's made him stronger. He thinks he's lost his edge, but he hasn't. And on top of everything, he has this little lady in his life," I smiled and reached over to touch Mattie's hand.

Clark nodded but said nothing.

Before the silence between us lasted too long, Lois and Barbara arrived, chatting and all smiles. Every bathroom on the first floor was done up and ready, and the flowers had been set in the reception hall and in the corridors. Clark rose and greeted his wife, who pecked his cheek before walking over to Mattie. The child bounced in her seat and lifted her hands at the sight of Lois. They had spent a good part of the morning together and Lois had absolutely fallen head over heels for the Wayne baby.

We all had.

V Less we forget the Best Man V

I had set my alarm for six-thirty. After three presses of the snooze button, I rose at seven-fifteen and found the shower through half-closed eyes. Halfway through, the water went cold and I quickly shut it off, cursing the aging hot water heater. After wrapping an old robe around me, I found my glasses and donned them just as the phone rang.

It could have been a hundred people, but I had a hunch, "Good morning, dear."

"Daddy, hi. Just calling to make sure you were up. Alfred made breakfast if you want to eat here."

"Just some coffee, that would be just fine. I have to get dressed and then I'll be leaving. How's everything holding up?" I asked as I sought out a pair of jeans from a laundry basket.

She paused before replying, "Ok. I've been getting some things done down here for the reception, that we didn't get to after the rehearsal dinner. The caterers just pulled in the driveway and Alfred's out taking charge."

I shook my head, picturing the spry old man dishing out orders with military accuracy. "All right, I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye Dad, muwah!" and then nothing.

After I had dressed, found my keys and made it through the door, my watch showed it to be fifteen of eight. Seeing how it was Saturday morning, traffic was practically nothing and I cruised over the bridge into Bristol. The smile on my face was genuine, the sheer thought of Bruce and Selina finally making it work being the cause. In mere hours they would share their vows, unite their love and then celebrate until kingdom come.

Unless the unexpected happened.

Barbara had relented on how Selina was worried that the endless bad luck of the last year would surely climax on their wedding day. I recalled my own experiences of matrimony and shook my head. There had been drama, yes, bad things, of course, but overall, they were wonderful days with women I loved.

As my mind drifted back to how gorgeous Barbara was in her dress and how Sarah smashed cake into my moustache, I saw flashing lights behind me. Red flashing lights. I pulled over, giving the lane to the officer so that he could pass. To my utter horror, the car followed me and pulled over behind me.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered as I stopped and shut off the ignition.

I continued to growl and grumble to myself as I watched the officer stroll up to me via the side mirrors. He was an older deputy, tall and lanky with a scowl that said I had ruined his morning. When he paused at my door, a tobacco-rich voice asked for my license and registration. After fumbling for the documents, I handed them over, "You're making a big mistake."

"I think not, Mr. Gordon."

Clearing my throat, I offered an equally aggressive growl, "You can call me Commissioner Gordon if you're going to be formal," I read his name plate, "Deputy Gerard."

I saw the corner of his lip twitch before he asked, "Do you know how fast you were going?"

Fifteen minutes of badgering, answering ridiculous questions and watching a shaky hand scribble on a note pad, I was released with a warning to drive safer. I memorized his name and face and reminded myself to place a call to his superior. A 70 in a 65 was nothing but pulling over Gotham City's commissioner was another.

The remaining drive was uninterrupted and I pulled in next to Barbara's car at exactly eight-thirty. I felt uncomfortable walking through the front door unannounced and felt even worse for ringing and waiting to be let in when there was so much to be done. I walked around, through the garage entrance and entered through the service door into the kitchen.

As expected, there were countless boxes of dishes, supplies and baskets of fresh bread and fruit. Several men and women in white garb were organizing the foods and unpacking dishware. The caterers. I smiled to myself thinking they were Alfred's nemesis. Then, a tall man with high cheekbones approached me, "Monsieur, non, no food, wait pour the recep-tion," his French accent rendering the words nearly useless.

I held my hands up and offered a kind smile, "Right, I was just leaving."

After squeezing my way between the food soldiers, I made my way into the hall. Slowly, I scanned the flowers that stood every ten feet in the hall and listened for voices. I followed the sound of female chattering to a small room whose door was half opened. I knocked then walked through to see a table of food and beverages and three women talking and picking at fruit. Four including Mattie, as she played with a linen napkin on her mother's lap.

"Ladies," I announced myself after none had responded to my knocking or entrance.

Barbara was the first to look up, followed by Lois then Selina. "Dad, help yourself before we devour it all."

I walked over kissed her cheek and poured myself a cup of coffee. I sat in between Lois and Barbara and then asked, "So, how is Bruce holding up?"

Selina swallowed a piece of pineapple before replying, "Good I guess, I haven't been allowed on the same floor as him. But Dick and Alfred went up and so far so good."

We began talking about the night before, how well the rehearsal dinner had been and how we all couldn't wait for the day to get going. As we talked and ate, I heard two voices in the hall as they approached. First a soft female voice, "Food's in here. Lots."

"Any bacon? Could make myself a killer McTimmy breakfast sandwich."

The two forms appeared and revealed themselves as Cassandra and Tim. She was dressed, surprisingly, in tan shorts and a navy blue tee shirt. As long as I could remember, I had seen her in nothing lighter than midnight blue. She glanced over at the table, licked her lips then left Tim's side.

Barbara had told me that he had been backpacking with a few friends up in Fulton for the last week. He also wore tan shorts and a black short- sleeved shirt that declared in bold white letters: "Disco Still Sucks."

Interesting.

As he came closer and greeted everyone, I noticed scrapes and cuts all over his bare arms and legs. There was a small, almost unnoticeable scrape down the side of his neck that followed under the collar of his shirt. Barbara must have noticed as well, for she asked, "So, did you fall down a ravine or something?"

"Nah," he walked over to get a plate and a fork, "We ended up betting who could reach the top first. And considering my fellow hikers have been playing 'Final Fantasy' as part of their daily exercise, it wasn't too hard to whomp them. These are just my victory marks," he motioned to the scabs on his arms.

"How much was on the line?" Lois spoke up.

"Six guys, five hundred a piece."

Selina smiled, "And what are we doing with this hard earned money?"

He shrugged as he went about piling eggs, bacons and sausage links on a bagel, "It's already gone." When everyone looked at him he winked in the bride's direction, "Thought I'd get the Lord and Lady something special."

I grinned and sipped coffee. I knew Tim Drake was a hardworking young man, and despite his family's wealth, he was very down to earth. I had never asked Bruce about how he had became Robin, but Barbara had volunteered after Dick spilled the proverbial beans two years ago. After discovering Batman's true identity, Tim had practically forced himself upon Bruce, declaring that Batman needed a Robin.

In my years knowing his mentor, I couldn't agree more. Whenever the role of Robin had been emptied, whether by force or death, it affected Batman in such a way. It took away his humanity, almost.

As I looked around at the family he had gained since his first appearance on the Gotham nightline, I thought to myself that he would never lose his humanity ever again.

V


	20. Life Is Good: XIX Part 2

Title: Life Is Good: XIX Part 2

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: You are all cordially invited to the wedding reception for Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne, which is to be held shortly at the Main Hall at Wayne Manor. Feel free to RSVP through your reviews. Please be sure to confirm your dish preference (beef, chicken, fish, pasta) before Cassie eats everything.

A/N 2: Bruce's poem to Selina was "Green Eyes" by Dragon at Selina's "gift" to Bruce was "Elephant Love Melody" from Moulin Rouge. The wedding ceremony is loosely based on my friends' Dayna and Paul's special day.

V Wedding Bells V

It was ten-thirty.

One hour and thirty minutes left.

Oh, boy.

The men of the wedding party had holed up in the second floor suite that Bruce had slept in the night before. I had dressed in my good slacks and shoes and an undershirt, but the rest of my tux was still hanging in the closet, wrapped in plastic. Jim was in a similar state of dress, and sat tying his shoes in a leather chair. I looked across the room to see Tim juggling his own shoes and one of Bruce's.

If he was caught, Bruce would kill him.

I stood at the door peering into the hall, waiting for Alfred to arrive. He had been running back and forth between the men and the women in addition to checking on the caterers. Leslie had called up to our suite and said to catch him and keep him in the room. When I asked her how, she delivered a tactical plan to grab his attention and to keep it for some time.

After hanging up the phone and explaining matters to the rest of the group, I had frowned. I never had been able to lie to Alfred and to succeed in convincing him. It was quite the task to fool the man who raised you, and a man who had mastered the form of acting on stage.

When Alfred stepped through the door, Bruce took his cue and headed for the bathroom, cursing under his breath. Just before Alfred had entered, he had reached a hand to his nose, hesitated and then tweeked it just slightly, instigating a light nosebleed.

Although my acting abilities could be summed up on a single sheet of notebook paper, I spoke with soft concern, "Bruce, you all right?"

Alfred picked up on the tilt in my voice and followed Bruce into the bathroom, questioning as to what happened. I winked at Jim and Tim bit his lip to hide his smile. We all approached the bathroom, and watched with false intrigue as Alfred placed a washcloth to Bruce's nose. He brushed the older man's hands away and walked towards the rim of the tub, "I'm fine."

"Sir, please," he replied, "Let me see..."

Before he finished, he faced the three of us in disgust and promptly shut the door.

"Ah, man," Tim griped before finding a seat on the edge of the bed. I followed and sat beside him while Jim returned to the chair. "How long do you think we can keep him?"

"At least fifteen minutes. Leslie said to try our best, so when he comes out, we need another excuse to keep him here," I replied.

"I could lose Bruce's shoe. Or my cufflinks," Tim offered as he picked at a scratch on his palm.

"Both," Jim smiled.

While I placed Tim's cufflinks in my pants pocket, he hid the shoe he had been juggling in his duffle bag that he had brought with him that morning. In case of an emergency, both were easily accessible but still essentially lost.

I was back on the bed seconds before Alfred opened the door and Tim was touring the room, "looking" for something. He looked upset, but oddly relieved at the same time. I stood and asked, "Alfred what happened?"

He drew a breath while he composed himself, "Nothing, sir. Master Bruce is just fine. If you'll excuse me---."

Tim blurted out, "Where did they go?"

Alfred's brow rose slightly, "Where did 'who" go, Master Timothy?"

We managed to hold Alfred captive for another thirty minutes while we searched feverishly for the cufflinks and when Bruce came out of the bathroom, his other shoe. At that point, Alfred had grown wary of our intentions and promptly excused himself to check on the progress of the women.

After telling each and every one of us to be dressed within ten minutes or else.

We were dressed in eight and a half and waited half- expectantly to see him pop his head in to be sure the order had been carried out.

One hour.

As I checked myself in the mirror hanging above the dresser, straightening my tie and slicking back my hair, Bruce spoke softly, "I'm going to step out for a bit. Get something to eat."

I dashed across the room, leapt over Tim's out stretched legs and slid to a stop beside him as he opened the door. "Bad idea," I said while I exhaled, "One hour to go, not the best time to be taking a stroll around the Manor. What if you fall or something?"

"I won't, Dick. Now move," he spoke with the tenacity and force I had witnessed far too many times while he wore the mask. Move or be moved.

I sighed, stepped out of his way and sighed, "Fine, but be back here in like ten minutes, when Alfred comes to check on us, I don't want to be the one who has to explain to him why you are suddenly invisible."

He nodded, looked down then stepped out into the hall.

V Best of the Bridesmaids V

"Barbara, can you hand me that comb," Lois said through sixteen bobby pins held between her lips.

I reached over to the dresser and retrieved it for her. The hairdresser had called at nine to say she was unable to make it because her eight-year- old daughter had come down with the flu and her husband was out of town. Selina had taken it well, sent warm wishes for the child's recovery, then hung up and promptly screamed.

Therefore, Lois, who had done her fair share of hair styling, volunteered her services. Selina's hair was pulled up in to a wrapped bun, with small white flowers woven into her strands of raven hair. Each of the bridesmaids had a similar style, for Lois had literally practiced the do on us before moving onto Selina.

We all had been dressed since a quarter of ten and required only a touch of makeup before being completely ready. Mattie was precious in her tiny silk slip as she toddled about saying "prit-ty" to everyone in the room. She would be dressed moments before leaving for the ceremony as to prevent any catastrophes. She had sat on her mother's lap for most of the morning, smiling and touching Selina's face.

More so for the child, she had grinned as much as possible, despite the fact that gray clouds were beginning to roll over the property. And that the hairdresser couldn't come. And that she had tripped over a black cat. And ripped her nail...

We had been alone for a few spare moments earlier and she had confided that it was all going to Hell in a bat-shaped hand basket.

Once her hair was secured with the remaining pins, Lois announced, "Done."

Selina rose, looked at herself in the mirror and smiled warmly. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Anytime. All I ask is for a dance with your hubby at the reception."

"Done," she answered. When she turned away form the wall she said, "I'm going to go walk around, stretch my legs a bit."

Lois' eyes rolled and Lelsie, who had been in the back of the room playing with Mattie, rose, "Dear, I don't think this is the optimal time to be stretching your legs."

"Ten minutes, I swear I'll be right back."

Leslie looked over at me and I shrugged, "Wouldn't hurt, just don't let anyone step on you train. And don't drink any fruit punch."

"I'll try," she replied before looking at Mattie, "Want to go for a walk, sweetie?"

The child walked over and held her hands up towards her mother. Selina carefully picked the child up and they then walked through the door. Once it had shut behind them, Lois sat beside me, "Cold feet."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You, know, cold feet. She's nervous."

"She'll be fine. They've been through too much already, it would have to be rather disastrous to get her rattled."

She smiled as a knock at the door came and a male voice asked, "Are we decent?"

Lois walked over and let him in, "Yes, Clark."

I stepped in the room and I looked him over. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, white collared shirt with a red and gold tie. And of course his glasses. I rarely saw him as Clark Kent, but at that moment, I could hardly see the real him. He looked at Lois briefly before looking about the room. Leslie had taken Cassandra into the bathroom to get started on some make up and aside from Lois and me, all that occupied the large room was baskets of hair supplies, snacks, discarded morning clothes and empty hangers.

He grinned, "Looks like a tornado passed through."

Lois smacked his arm, "Smallville, everything 'looks like a tornado passed through' to you. How are the boys in black coming along?"

He shrugged, "Haven't been up there yet."

She pointed to his eyes, "Well then take a peep."

I laughed as he shrugged, then lowered his glasses before scanning the ceiling. "Jim, Dick and Tim are pretty much dressed, just need straighten some ties and their hair."

"And Bruce?" I asked.

His face waned with concern, "Isn't there."

"What?" Lois asked, "Where is he?"

As Clark scanned the entire house, I felt a sudden worry that all of the countermeasures taken to prevent the doomsday of having the bride and groom meet were not going to be successful. Despite the worry, I let a smile grow on my lips. Just like everything in his life, Bruce had the day planned out to perfection. There was not going to be any random path- crossing that day. It was no coincidence that when Selina went out to walk around the time that Bruce so happened to be missing as well.

Oh, Alfred was going to kill him for this.

V Ultimate Ushers V

"Dick, stop looking at your watch, he'll be right back," I sighed as I watched him pace the room, alternating his eyes from his wrist to the door. Waiting was always the worst, no matter what the situation. Waiting for Bruce to get back so Dick would clam the hell down without any form of entertainment was even scarier.

Bruce's quick trip to get something to eat had waned into twenty minutes. Dick was sure he had been shot, kidnapped, or had at least tripped over a roller skate or something. Jim had offered words of comfort, but they were useless. He had been nervous all morning. Whenever he was asked about it, he would try to brush it aside.

And I couldn't have been more bored to death.

The ceremony was to begin in forty minutes and gray clouds still threatened the mid-day sky. The chairs and alter were set and decorated in the side yard and guests were being seated. According to the rehearsal dinner from last night, the ceremony itself was going to be small, all press excluded, and only close friends were invited.

I counted only thirty chairs set out.

I recognized almost everyone as they sat. My father and step-mother were chatting with Lucius Fox as his family looked around in wonderment. Despite Bruce's goofy image to the outside, the Foxs adored Bruce, for he was always there for them, most notably when Lucius had suffered a stroke not too long ago. I recalled over three years ago checking into the Manor and to hear from Alfred that Bruce would be dining with the Foxs and would be home eventually. And several computer home made get well cards for just three weeks ago after the car accident.

A regular old hero.

Surprisingly, the only JLA members who had agreed to attend the ceremony were Clark, J'onn and Diana. So far, the only one I had seen was Clark. Everyone else had signed on for the reception, in order to show their gratitude and offer a wedding gift.

Aside from that, close friends of Bruce's were far and few.

Dick was suddenly at my side, "I'll be damned." When I looked at him he pointed towards the rear of the arrangement to two forms. One was a petit woman, dressed in a dark pantsuit with dark hair and a nervous smile. She stood next to a monster of a man, who barely fit into a two-piece charcoal suit. I squinted to see that instead of his usual cigar, he had a toothpick jammed into the corner of his mouth.

Jim had joined us and smiled, "Bruce said to invite two officers to represent the department. Figured Bullock and Montoya represented the best of the best. Surprised to even see them here."

I laughed, "Oh, boy."

We all turned suddenly to the sound of the door opening. Bruce, looking just as he had when he left, nodded. Dick walked over and stammered out a demand as to where he had been. He shrugged and replied, "Ran into an old friend."

After additional badgering, Bruce shook his head and told Dick, in not so many words, to knock it off. Realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere and it wasn't wise to upset Bruce, especially on such a wondrous day, Dick sighed and returned to my side to window watch.

"Old friend..." he grumbled.

I looked back at Bruce and he winked at me. I grinned and then looked out the window, "You do realize what old friend he's talking about?"

He stared at me, "What old friend?"

"Never mind, pal, hey look, it's Huntress," I pointed down below.

"What!" he cried out and searched feverishly. By the time he realized I was joking, I was laughing aloud and doubling over. He kicked me lightly in the shin and mumbled to himself.

"That will be enough, children," Alfred's stern voice sounded.

We ceased immediately and stood straight, already murmuring apologies. Jim and Bruce watched on, far too happy to not be in the hot seat with Mr. Pennyworth. He lectured us on how it was not the time nor the place for rough housing and we nodded in unison and further apologized for our actions. Once he felt that we were adequately scorned he announced, "Very well, if I may gentleman, it is time to make our way to the ceremony."

Everyone did a once over in the bathroom except Bruce, who stood overlooking the guests as they seated themselves. It was amazing, I thought to myself as I watched him. There was not a hair out of place nor any sign of distress. He looked completely at peace with himself, and for Bruce, that was a major achievement. A smirk developed on my face as I mentally drew a cowl on his head and it grew when I realized his looked exactly as he did when on patrols, overlooking the city from twenty stories above.

Absolutely amazing.

He caught me looking and nodded before turning away from me.

Dick slapped me on the shoulder and called out boldly as we walked towards the door, "Holy Matrimony Batman!" Bruce offered an icy glare and we stared back at him, sporting matching Robin-esque smiles.

This was going to be great.

V Dum dum de dum... V

I hated the dress.

So bright and clean and long. Could hardly walk in the shoes either. But when Selina looked at me, a soft smile on her face, I knew it was worth my agony.

The party stood just out of sight from where all of the guests were. The Commissioner and he were already there, waiting at the alter. Dick, with Barbara on his left, stood in front of Tim and I. And just behind me, Mattie stood, dressed in a miniature version of my own dress, carrying a small basket of rose petals. Leslie stood next to her and then finally, Selina and Alfred were in the back.

The dark clouds had drifted away and actual sunshine poured down upon us. I was glad the dress was sleeveless because it was pretty warm out. A little muggy too.

Last night had been the rehearsal dinner, where we had all practiced our part in the wedding before eating. I didn't really see the big deal. How hard could it be to walk down the aisle. Then again, we had to wear dresses, so I guess it added to the challenge.

Soft music and voices drifted from where everyone was sitting. I looked over at Tim as his straightened his bow tie. He was very handsome, looked like a movie star. When we had first met up going down the stairs, he stared at me in shock before mumbling, "Look great, Cass."

He glanced over a t me, "Ready to rock and roll?"

I nodded eagerly and then heard a cell phone ring. Dick patted at his pockets and then retrieved it from his jacket, "Grayson."

Before he could venture further into the call, Barbara grabbed at it, took hold and then threw it against the stonework of the house. He was about to complain when that song we had drilled into our heads the night before sounded. The Wedding March.

We moved together, allowing Dick and Barbara to gain some space ahead of us. Everyone that was seated looked back at us and I only recognized a handful of them, mostly from pictures in the paper or from what I had been told. I felt an odd wave of nervousness wash over me and then Tim touched my elbow, "No sweat, Cass. We'll knock them dead."

As Dick and Barbara made their way through the row between the chairs, I saw his face. He stood beside the clergy, Father Dave as he introduced himself last night. The Commissioner was staring intently at the couple moving down the aisle, smiling proudly.

But his attention was behind me, eyes intent on Selina's face, obscured by our forms.

"Batter up," Tim smiled as he hooked his arm around mine. The walking was still difficult, but I kept straight and didn't stumble once as I walked past smiling faces and glassy eyed stares. We parted before him and I went to stand beside Barbara while he walked towards Dick.

All eyes locked onto Leslie as she guided Mattie down towards us. She picked up petals and dropped them for the first ten feet, then offered the basket to Leslie who took it with a smile. When she saw her father as they neared the path, she called out "Da-hie" and let go of her guide's hand to walk over to him.

Lois scooted out of her seat and took Mattie to sit with them just as he bent over and kissed Mattie's head, "Stay with Lois, kitten."

By the time he stood fully, Mattie was safely tucked in between Lois and Clark. His focus returned down the aisle as Selina, with Alfred at her side, walked carefully towards the alter. Everyone had risen from their seats to look at her as she approached.

I wanted to know why they were standing but knew better than to ask. I had never been to a wedding, but had seen ones on movies and TV. Large ones in churches, mostly. This one was small, close and almost perfect. If we hadn't had to wear dresses, it would have been great. Just before they paused before us, I looked over at Father Dave.

He had been friends with his parents when he was a child. He hardly looked older than fifty, with dark brown hair and soft hazel eyes.

Although he was generally soft spoken, he had been very nice to me during the rehearsal, especially after he found out that I had never been involved with any form of religion. He had told me that faith was always a good quality, no matter what it was in.

I really liked him.

Selina stopped with Alfred and turned to kiss him on the cheek. She then stepped forward and took his proffered hand. They looked happy. They were happy.

He had covered up the scar on his brow with some sort of concealer. I knew he used it to cover up other old wounds whenever he had a big public appearance. I stared at the spot on his forehead and at his dark gray hair. So much had changed about him.

Before I could continue my thoughts, Father Dave spoke aloud, "Our Father in heaven, we turn to you asking that this ceremony would honor you, and reflect the seriousness of the vows to be spoken. Might this service be a reminder to us who have spoken similar vows to our spouses in the past and instructive to those considering such a commitment in the future. Might it also be a fitting beginning for Bruce and Selina as they commit themselves before you to pursue a loving and lasting life together. We ask it in Jesus' name, Amen. You may be seated."

As everyone sat, I suddenly wondered why we didn't get chairs.

V With This Ring... V

As I stood behind Ms. Kyle, I looked over at Master Bruce. I had never seen him happier, nor more proud. He caught my gaze and nodded slightly before looking back at Selina.

I had caught the both of them with their child in the refreshment room on the first floor not even an hour before they were to be wed. They had been joking about how nervous everyone had been and had traded horror stories of the preparation process. Instead of interrupting them, I had allowed their quiet time to continue and vowed to only interfere if they had not returned to their respective rooms within fifteen minutes.

Unfortunately, as I had made my way to the stairs, Master Bruce had left his family and had caught up with me, a smile of victory on his face.

Similar to the one he wore now.

Father Miller looked out at the guests and spoke in a amiable tone, "You have all been invited to hear Bruce and Selina promise to face the future together as husband and wife," he then gazed at them, "You are about to assume mutual relationships and responsibilities and to promise undying devotions. Nothing is easier than saying words, nothing harder than living them day by day."

My knees shook slightly as I awaited his next words.

He continued, "Who gives this woman to be married to Bruce?"

Master Bruce and Ms. Kyle both shot quick glances at me as I spoke confidently, "I do."

I then seated myself next to Mr. Kent and felt his wife's hand touch my shoulder as she reached behind his back. Our attention returned forward as Father Miller spoke once more, "It is on this day that Bruce and Selina should start a family of their own, combining their two families together as one. And that is how it was meant to be, for as God created man, he also created woman to be his friend and companion. Woman was not created from the man's head to rule over him, nor from his feet to be trampled upon, but rather from his side to be equal to so that they may be partners in every way."

His arms spread and directed attention towards the soon to be married couple. I felt a tightness in my chest that I had felt very few times in my life. When a six-year-old Master Bruce had donned a skeleton costume for Halloween and tried very hard to pronounce the bones that could be seen. When that same boy, older and wiser, had returned after years away from home and offered a half smile and a wink. When that young boy, much older and much wiser, witnessed the birth of his child and looked at me with a wondrous sense of joy.

I looked up to see Father Miller speaking, "Real love is something beyond the warmth and glow, the excitement and romance of being deeply in love. It is caring as much about the welfare and happiness of your marriage partner as you do about yourself. Burdens will be lighter because you divide them. Joys will be more intense because you share them.

"No other human ties are more tender, no other vows more sacred then these you are about to assume. You are entering into a holy estate and the very sacrament of divine love. Now as you stand in the presence of God, you must remember the responsibilities of a husband and a wife."

I looked over at Leslie and saw her eyes moist. Master Timothy and Master Dick stood proudly, carefully observing the ceremony as if it were a new adventure to partake on. And when I looked over at Ms. Barbara's glowing face, I hoped that at least one of the ushers would "get the hint".

"Let me charge you both to remember that your future happiness is to be found in mutual consideration, patience, kindness, confidence, trust, and affection. It is the duty of each to find the greatest joy in the company of the other; to remember that in interest as in affection you are to be henceforth one and undivided.

"And now, in token that your hearts are joined together, will you please join your right hands," he said as his arms slowly moved to his sides.

They slowly joined hands and Father Miller faced Master Bruce before continuing, "Bruce Wayne, this woman whom you hold by the hand is to be your wife. She has given you one of the most sacred things under heaven: a woman's life and love. It is your duty to be a considerate, tender, faithful and loving husband. You may bring her great joy or cause her deep sorrow. Instead, support, guide and cherish her in prosperity and trouble. It is not what you bring her in a material way that will make true happiness – riches without love are nothing. The gift without the giver is bare. Everyday, thoughtfully and carefully enlarge the place she holds in your heart. The practices of those virtues as a husband will keep your two hearts close forever.

"Do you vow here, as you have promised Selina, that you will be true and loyal, patient in sickness, comforting in sorrow, and understanding in times of trouble? Will you stand by her no matter what comes to pass and make whatever adjustments are necessary so that you can genuinely share your life with her? Do you promise to always keep yourself completely open to her, being her best friend as well as her lover and forsaking all others, keep yourself for her alone so long as you both shall live?"

Master Bruce paused, stared at his betrothed and replied softly, "Yes, I do."

He then faced Ms. Kyle, who drew a long breath as Master Bruce squeezed her hand, "Selina, this man whom you hold by the right hand is to be your husband. It is your duty to be a considerate, tender, faithful, and loving wife. On your life, your love and devotion he will lean for strength and inspiration. He is going to look to you for encouragement, for cheerfulness and confidence. You must be his council, his comfort and his best friend. No matter what the world may say or think, people may forget him, lose confidence in him, and turn their backs upon him, but you must not. You must show him the unfailing evidences of your affection and make the place he holds in your heart broader and deeper as time passes. May your life and your love be the inspiration that will constantly lead and guide him.

"Do you vow here, as you have promised Bruce that you will be loyal in adversity, taking care of him in sickness, comforting him in sorrow, and understanding in times of trouble? Will you stand by his side no matter what comes to pass and make whatever adjustments are necessary so that you can genuinely share your life with him? Do you promise to always keep yourself open to him, being his best friend as well as his lover and forsaking all others, keeping yourself for him alone so long as you both shall live?"

She nodded slowly then looked over at Master Bruce before announcing in an emotional voice, "I do."

After a quiet pause, Father Miller spoke in a louder tone, "Well, now that that is settled, let us move on. May we have the rings please?"

The entire group watched as Commissioner Gordon and Dr. Thompkins fetched the rings and proceeded to relinquish them to Master Bruce and Ms. Kyle. "Bruce, if you would, repeat after me: I, Bruce Wayne, give to you this ring as a symbol."

He looked down as he gently placed the wedding band on her ring finger, and spoke, "I, Bruce Wayne, give to you this ring as a symbol."

"Of my commitment, love, honor and respect for you. With this ring, I thee wed."

He caressed her hand softly as she looked up to him, "Of my commitment, love, honor and respect for you. With this ring, I thee wed."

Father Miller then looked towards the bride, waited for eye contact and then smiled warmly, "Selina, your turn. If you would, repeat after me: I, Selina Kyle, give to you this ring as a symbol."

She returned the words back to him, "I, Selina Kyle, give to you this ring as a symbol," all the while her eyes transfixed on Master Bruce's.

"Of my commitment to love, honor, and respect for you. With this ring, I thee wed."

She took a long pause, composing herself before slipping the ring onto Master Bruce's hand, "Of my commitment, to love, honor and respect for you. With this ring... I thee wed."

With a pleased look on his face, Father Miller proceeded, "We ask for thy gentlest blessings, O God, may the love of Bruce and Selina be strong, that no misunderstanding will loosen the bond and no passing of the years will have the power to dim the light that now glows in them. May they gain the wisdom to realize the true values of life early, and may no circumstances take from them the wholesome peace and inward satisfactions which only love can give.

"Bruce and Selina, may your days and years to come be filled with the kind of integrity and joy, that will enable you to live through those times ahead which may be tough. May the blessing that rests upon all who love, rest also upon you, and fill you with spiritual grace. May the bond that unites you ever be strengthened. May you so love and work together in the days that are to come, that your lives will be enriched and ennobled by a true and deepening union of mind and heart and may your affection for each other grow, thus enriching and strengthening all of us."

He nodded softly, "This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it! May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace, both now and forever."

I heard someone sniffling behind me. I would have offered my handkerchief but Mr. Kent had beat me to it. Faster than a speeding...

"In as much as you have each pledged to the other your lifelong commitment, love and devotion, by the authority committed to me as a man of God and through the power of the state, I now declare you, to be husband and wife, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." He paused, winked at Master Bruce and then announced, "You may now kiss the bride."

We watched on as he carefully pushed back the veil and looked at his wife's face. They spoke to each other quietly before embracing and sharing their first wedded kiss. As soon as they moved apart, Father Miller lifted his arms, "I finally present to you Mr. and Mrs. Wayne."

Thomas and Martha, if you could only see him now...

  
V


	21. Life Is Good: XX

Title: Life Is Good: XX

Author: D C Luder

Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

V

The photographer was an older woman who had the claim to fame of not only being able to photograph Bruce's wedding, but also Bruce's parents when they had been married years ago. Every time I scanned through the Manor's wall to check on the progress of the picture taking, she seemed overwhelmed with joy in seeing Bruce grown and starting a family of his own.

In the mean time, the guests had holed up in the Great Hall and were helping themselves to appetizers and free drinks and listened as the band warmed up.

Lois had gone off with the wedding party, anxious to see the locale and poses. Despite her strange relationship with Bruce, she had come to be very involved in the affairs of the Wayne wedding in our last week in Gotham. Selina, who had never been one for girl friends, had enjoyed her company and views on what marriage life was all about. When I had visited during Bruce's recovery over a year ago, she had been wary of me, but after introductions and explanations had been exchanged, and her deduction of my true purpose, she had become much more amiable towards me.

I sat, alone, at a large table situated to the left of the wedding party's table. There were ten chairs surrounding me, and as I read their name cards, I recognized only two of them: Lois and John Jones. Earlier that week, I had discussed with Dick the matter of who in our "community" had been invited to the wedding and reception. Supposedly, only myself and J'onn had been directly invited while a small group of the others were invited to the reception if they could attend without causing a scene.

I was about to get up to refill my soda glass when I heard a sigh to my right. To very little surprise, I saw the form of a middle-aged man, with dark brown hair and gentle features on a broad face. His nameplate had been the one I recognized. I reached over and shook his hand briefly, "Were you at the ceremony?"

He nodded, "Someone took the seat I wanted, ended up standing at the alter with Father Miller."

I smirked, picturing the invisible form of my friend watching the wedding from the best spot possible. I traced the rim of my glass, "So how many others are here?"

A smile formed on his lips as he touched my shoulder. Faces that had gone unrecognized suddenly became the visages I had come to know and trust. Wally, Roy and Kyle stood by the bar, chatting with two women while Arthur and Tempest stood next to an ice sculpture. I scanned the room looking for others as J'onn spoke, "A simple mind block on anyone in the room. Those with more... recognizable faces are disguised."

"Boys, are we behaving ourselves?"

We both turned to see Lois, all smiles as she walked over to her seat. She reached over once she had seated herself and straightened my tie. When she saw that we had been joined by another guest, she smiled, "Hi. We've met, haven't we?"

He nodded, "John Jones. I'm a friend of Clark's. And Bruce's."

She nodded, winked and then lifted her wineglass to her lips. Just as she was about to let loose the investigative reporter in her on J'onn, a male voice came over the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please make your way to your seats, the wedding party will be here shortly."

Within fifteen minutes, the tables were full, including mine. I grinned to see that the faces had been revealed to me earlier sat themselves at the table and nodded in acknowledgement. Wally and Kyle sat together facing me and chatted a bit before laughing loudly in unison. I asked, "Something funny?"

The suddenly looked ashamed and Wally spoke after gnawing on his lip, "Nah, just excited to see them all dressed up. Especially Mr. Brooding Is Fun," he smiled as he held his pointer fingers to the side of his head, imitating Bruce's cowl.

I looked over to J'onn to see him grinning before he said, "I'll be sure to tell him of your enthusiasm."

Their skin paled before our eyes and Arthur let loose a great chuckle after sipping water. As things settled and background music began playing, I noticed that there was one chair empty at our table, just on the other side of J'onn, labeled Rhonda Sykes. I nodded towards it and J'onn spoke, "Diana. I don't know if she is going to come."

Before I could comment, the voice returned to my ears. There was a young man, dark haired and smiling, standing with a microphone on the makeshift stage towards the front corner of the room. He waited until a vast majority of the group had silenced before continuing, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to join the celebration..."

He had a crisp, clear voice, slightly bass, and oddly familiar. Lois elbowed me and said, "That's Don Rage, from WNGC. Love his show..." My mind clicked with the name and I recalled hearing it several times while Lois was showering or even hanging around the house. He was a host for a show on an AM station that was famous for it's male host and the best of classic and modern Jazz.

I preferred Garth Brooks.

As he went about highlighting that no smoking would be allowed and the location of the fire exits, I heard a door open and glanced to see who had arrived. Wearing a long, blue silk dress, Diana searched the room, her features tense and nervous. J'onn smiled and signaled to her and when she made eye contact, she crossed the room and made her way towards us.

As she sat, I asked, "Get lost?"

She frowned at me and went about smoothing her dress and touching her hair. She was nervous, I couldn't believe it. She and Bruce had suffered a great deal of tension in their relationship. I knew she had feelings for him, but Bruce had never truly been interested, his devotion to his quest consuming him. And when he had decided to enter a relationship, it had not been with her, but a known criminal. Although the rest of the League was happy to see Bruce finally seeking out happiness, even with Catwoman, Diana was hurt, feeling as if she had been rejected.

J'onn sent his thoughts to me, The claws versus the lasso. When I looked at him suddenly, he continued, I was thinking about it as well. Be interesting to see when they are introduced formally. 

I suddenly hoped that Bruce wouldn't be caught in the middle.

V

"I am so glad to get out of that thing," I sighed as I smoothed over my evening dress.

Well, mid-afternoon dress.

After nearly two hours of photographs in the muggy heat in thirty pounds of dress, I was fried. The dark rain clouds had left momentarily, providing the natural lighting necessary for the pictures to be perfect. I kept joking with Bruce as we were posed, on how fate had finally found it possible to smile at us.

He grumbled in agreement and wiped sweat from his forehead.

When we returned to the Manor, I had changed into a similar version of the bridesmaid's dress, but it was a lighter shade of lavender and had a small train on the skirt. In all actuality, it was a trimmed up version of the dress I had worn all day. The men, unfortunately, were stuck in their tuxes. Not that I complained, but they sure did.

As we stood just outside of the dining hall, Bruce leaned over and whispered into my ear as everyone lined up to enter, "Parri passu."

I arched a brow and stared at him, wondering if he was suffering from heat stroke, "Would you care to repeat that."

He kissed my cheek, "Parri passu. Latin for 'side by side'."

Definitely heat stroke.

The doors opened before I could ask if he was feeling all right and I heard Don announcing his name and Cassie's. It had been a miracle that Bruce convinced my all-time favorite radio personality to speak at our wedding. And that he had gotten Magnolia, a six member live band that had performed on one of our first real dates. He could be such a softie.

A real "grumble, mumble, growl, yes dear" romantic.

We watched as Tim and Cassie marched in, all smiles, and made their way to the main table. Jim, who stood directly in front of Bruce, looked back, "Close as I'll ever get."

Bruce asked him what he meant as Barbara and Dick entered through the doors, and he replied, "Them, it's as close as I'll ever get to see them walking into a wedding reception together."

I grinned as Bruce shook his head, fighting off a smile. I heard Alfred and Mattie's name and looked up to watch them walk on, everyone emitting, "aww" 's and "ooh" 's at the sight of our daughter. Bruce nudged my side with his elbow, "She's already a heart breaker."

I laughed and pinched his side, "You just wait until first grade, and she'll really knock them dead."

Not a moment later, Jim and Leslie stepped forward, leaving us alone in the hall. I felt him shift his weight beside me as he smoothed his suit coat. I reached over and fixed his tie. He brushed my hand away and then hooked his arm with mine. After a second, he leaned over and said, "Let's just leave. Turn around and leave."

I laughed and had hardly caught my breath as I heard the words, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the public eye, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Wayne!"

After a pause, we both stepped forward and faced the public for the first time. Rae, the photographer snapped off a few shots while everyone rose and applauded. Neither one of us enjoyed the spotlight, and after as many smiles as we could muster, we walked to the main table. On our way, we passed the special reserved table that held the mind-cloaked whatever forms of Bruce's fellow crime fighters. J'onn had met up with us outside, had removed the block on the chosen members of the wedding party and then kissed me on the cheek with a sad look in his eye. Bruce had explained that J'onn's wife and child had been killed many years ago.

I made a note to dance with him at some point.

Maybe when Lois stole Bruce.

V

"I have never eaten so much in my life," Tim sighed as he sat back in his chair.

After the toasts had been finished, dinner had been served. And despite the light conversation, comments and interruptions made by people clanking their glasses, demanding a kiss from the bride and groom, a small competition had developed. Leslie had commented on how vast Cass's appetite was and how her metabolism must be off the charts.

Tim had butted in that she still couldn't eat as much as a man could.

Big mistake.

I sat in between Leslie and Cass and watched in horror as she and the boys devoured plate after plate of chicken, pasta and vegetables. Annoyed, Bruce called an end to it, but the damage had already been done. The three "children" had managed to produce twelve empty plates in total, and Cass was still bright eyed and ready for cake. The other two could hardly breath.

I grinned at Dick as he rubbed his stomach carefully, "What's the matter Sarge?"

He groaned and looked over at Tim.

Having finished my meal long before, I spent the time looking at the guests, listening to the band and when they weren't looking, gazing at Bruce and Selina. Despite the fact that they had just exchanged vows and rings, they appeared just as they would have any other night. He held his wine with one hand, leaving the other on the table. His face was calm, but not overtly happy, while hers beamed. She sat close to him, talking softly in his ear while looking out at the guests, her free hand touching his.

When I looked over at Dick once more, he carefully sipped a glass of water and then looked back at me, a smug grin on his face. Someday, I told myself.

The band suddenly produced a few recognizable piano and trumpet notes. Bruce nodded curtly and went about standing and pulling Selina's chair out for her. Mattie, who had been sitting on the other side of Bruce, held her hands up to him and said "Uppie."

He lifted her carefully and then said something to her in a hushed voice. She poked his nose with her finger and said his name. He smirked briefly then kissed her cheek before handing her over to Leslie. All the while, the band had been picking up volume, repeating the set of notes that had a title on the tip of my tongue.

Before I could place them with a song, the host spoke, "Could I have your attention, please?"

The room hushed in anticipation, but Wally had been in the middle of telling a joke and it took him a few words to realize that everyone had gone quiet. Dick laughed at the other end of the table and hid his grin with a napkin. With the Speedster silent, the host went about informing the guests that refreshments would be served throughout the evening and the appetizer buffet would be available as well. I saw Cass lip her licks out of the corner of my eye.

Dick had introduced her to crab stuffed mushrooms.

Instant addict.

Within in moments of leaving the table, Bruce and Selina had materialized on the dance floor. Since the entire hall was floored in red carpeting, the area where they stood was of varnished hardwood. Before the Manor had been leveled in the Quake, the ballroom had been a part of the room we sat in, and had seen tens of thousands of couples on its floors. This one was hardly worn in.

As Mr. Rage went on about the band that was fine tuning itself before the first dance, I studied them as they stood on the floor not ten yards away. She had wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling her face to his ear. He nodded to whatever she was telling him, no sign of response otherwise. Then finally, a fraction of a smile.

Without my noticing, the wedding party had rearranged while I watched Bruce and Selina. Leslie and Mattie had switched with Dick, so he sat next to me. When I faced him, I jumped slightly and he grinned, "Boo."

I swatted at his arm and then found his hand.

We both set our gaze, as everyone else had in the room, towards the dance floor.

The title of the song hit me, just as the music came into full swing. As the singer of the band cooed in his best attempt at Frank Sinatra, Dick's baritone sifted into my ear at the same time, "I've got you, under my skin." I squeezed his hand, offered him a smile and then watched as Selina and Bruce embraced. With his right hand, he held her left to his chest and set his left hand on her lower back as her free hand wrapped up towards his shoulder. The swayed flawlessly with the music, perfectly at peace and completely ignoring everyone that gawked at them.

The singer continued, "I've got you deep in my heart of me. So deep in my heart, that you're really a part of me," and as Bruce's face came into view, I watched as his lips moved slightly with the words, "I've got you under my skin."

"I've tried so, not to give in. I said to myself this affair, never will go so well," a smile broke out on Bruce's face that caused mine to grow as well, "But I should try to resist when, baby, I know so well, I've got you..."

"Hey," Clark said from behind me. He stooped a bit and put his face in between Dick's and mine "So far so good."

Dick grinned, "Yeah, but Roy, Wally and I haven't hooked up yet."

I threw him an icy glare as the band provided a loud, brass heavy instrumental piece, "If you three can not behave, you will be separated. Is that understood?"

Clark snickered but Dick's face had gone pale. Alfred glanced over at us and shook his head slowly. Before he could scowl at us in light of our rude behavior, I heard a child's whine and soft plea for her mother. Before anyone could make a move, Mattie had writhed out of Leslie's arms and toddled towards the end of the table. Clark made a grab for her but I touched his arm, whispering, "No, let her."

As the band quieted and the singer resumed his words, Mattie took full attention as she walked towards her parents, arms up in the air. While any other newlywed couple would have been mortified, Bruce dropped his one hand from Selina's waist and proceeded to lift his daughter up. As he supported her weight with that arm, she leaned against his chest, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Selina's hand then moved from Bruce's back and caressed Mattie's as they resumed dancing.

Maybe it was because I was a girl, or I wanted to get married to the lug next to me, or that it was wonderful to finally see Bruce and Selina happy, but I felt a tightness in my chest as I let out a sigh.

Then Dick said, "Ahhh, I want to dance with Mom and Dad too."

V

"They don't know how to play the Chicken Dance?" Dick cried out.

I shook my head, "Said they could do a mean 'Mack the Knife' though if we wanted that instead." I sat beside him at our new table. Dubbed the "Side Kick Kiddie" table seeing how it's members were myself, Dick, Wally, Roy and Garth. The adults had domineered the table a few feet away, the one closer to the head table, and acted as if we weren't even there.

Cass had actually remained with the main party. I couldn't decide if she was avoiding the mass of testosterone or if she wanted to play with Mattie.

Roy eyed a woman as she walked past towards the hall, "So who are all these people, Rob? Didn't think yer old man knew anyone that didn't wear a mask or a short skirt."

Dick glared at his friend, but I was content to laugh.

Although in most traditional wedding, the guests stayed and sucked every drop they could out of a reception, almost all of the "Civvie" guests, as Wally described, had left after speaking with the couple. As I looked about the room, maybe two-dozen people were left, and it was only 6:45. I picked up a grape from my plate and popped in my mouth before speaking, "So how long do you think until Bruce and Selina bail out?"

Kyle smiled, "Who would leave their reception early?"

Wally laughed, "Bats would. Got an important honeymoon analysis report to attend to."

I almost pitied them, for not knowing what Bruce was really like. They only saw him in full work mode, never the person behind the mask. Even still, Bruce had failed to tell them about his incident two years ago until less than four months ago, and that was to settle rumors that had peaked in his absence. They were at first angered that they were never told, but supposedly as Clark pointed how serious the circumstances had been, they dropped their grudges almost instantly.

Roy, who had always tried to be fearless when it came to the topic of Batman, was indeed intimidated. There only a bold few who could clearly admit that they held no fear in Bruce or Batman, and Arsenal was not on the list. He sat up in his chair and nodded several times before saying, "I give him an hour," and then looked over to a small group who were standing about the groom, "At least that's about as long as I could wait to, um, well you kn-OW!"

Dick had smacked him in the back of the head, "That's just a precursor to what he'll do to you if he ever even partially heard that sentence. And because she's my step-mother, sort of, now."

"He's right," I confirmed.

"Well I still give him an hour. Guys can't even play the Chicken Dance, what kind of a party could it be?"

As if God had granted his wish, a low rumble sounded from outside. Having been indoors with the drapes shut, we had been dining and enjoying ourselves without an outdoor view. I stood and walked over, carefully pulling the drapes back.

"Oh, boy," I mumbled at the sight of the near black rain clouds heading our way. The thunder we had just heard was followed ten seconds later by a flash of lightening.

Dick had joined me with a grim look on his face, "That's heading right at us," he stated.

"And to think you were trained by the World's Greatest Detective," I muttered as I closed the drapes.

When we turned, Alfred stood directly behind us, his arms crossed over his chest. A look of anger and sadness was on his face and I knew at once it was because the near-perfect day was about to be drowned in a rainstorm.

As thunder growled again, loud smacks of rain slapped against the windows. If we had been at our table and the band hadn't been in between songs, we would have never heard it. Dick was about to speak when lightening grounded itself and a flash of light seeped through the drapes. Alfred jumped and made his way towards the hall, most likely on a quest for candles, rain coats and flash lights.

Dick and I sat back down and eyed the group in the room. Bruce was on the dance floor now, with Lois in his arms as she chatted away. I sought out Selina and found her to be dancing with J'onn. Interesting, I thought. The others followed my gaze and Wally laughed quietly, "Bats is putting the moves on Mrs. Kent."

"Heard he already did," Kyle said as he picked up his water glass.

We then partook in a lively and humorous conversation of Bruce's love interests. Ranging from reporters to cat thieves and even Taila, or as Wally said "Mr. Crypt Keeper's hot number there..." the conversation came to an abrupt stop when Roy mentioned a certain Amazonian Princess.

And then thunder and lightning struck simultaneously and the lights flickered out. The only illumination was that of the table candles and the lightning. The band continued for a few notes and then gave up. A few voices sounded, voicing concern, then I heard Bruce, "It's all right everyone, the generators will kick on in just a few."

In the minute of darkness, hushed voices chatted as the rain fell harder and the thunder clapped louder. Mattie cried out a few times and then giggled, from the sound of it someone was tickling her. Then silence again. Dick touched my arm and I looked up to see Alfred holding a large candle as he returned to the room. He shook his head to himself, muttering quietly.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and the amplifier squeaked a bit as it came back online. After my eyes adjusted, I surveyed the room to see if anyone had strayed from their original position. The dance floor had emptied a bit, but didn't look too different. Then Roy gasped, "Damn he couldn't even wait that long!"

By the time I had figured out what he was talking about, Dick was giggling uncontrollably. Then Roy and I joined him as Kyle shook his head in disbelief. Alfred approached us after blowing out his candle, "And what about this situation do we find so humorous, gentlemen?"

Roy walked over and set an arm around Alfred's shoulder, which elicited a look of complete disgust, and then grinned, "The Master has left the building," and pointed to the dance floor.

Where Lois was dancing with J'onn.

And Bruce and Selina were nowhere in sight.

V

"Dick?"

"Little busy, O, I'll call you back," I growled before smashing an escrima stick into the side of a man who was no older than I, but had spent at least eight years of hard time. In my years in the vigilante business, I had handled him and his group of friends at least a dozen times.

And the lesson that we tried to teach them each time never sank in.

Crime doesn't pay, it only puts you in traction.

After a blow to the back of the head had knocked poor old Darryl Carr out cold, I turned to see that Batgirl had already brought down her attacker and had him bound by the wrists and ankles in what appeared to be a rather painful position. He moaned and she walked over him, lightly stepping on his side and paused to watch me shackle my own captive.

With Bruce off on his "personal leave" as he called it, I had continued my role as Gotham's interim protector. But with crime surprisingly not being all that bad, Bludhaven had not been as neglected as I had expected. We had been passing through Tri Corner on our way to the Clocktower and had happened upon a duo of suspicious characters. Aside from their black masks, gloves and anxious movements, their only tip off had been one man calling out, "Hurry, strip that shit out of there before the pigs come!"

While Batgirl and I had descended down upon them with the wrath of God, Robin called in over the comm. link. He had been half way across the city, monitoring a drug shipment. He sighed, "False alarm, turns out they're importing the million dollars worth of cocaine next Wednesday."

And the second he had signed off, Babs had tried to get a hold of me. I had Batgirl call in for a unit to pick up the Two Musketeeers, I reconnected to Babs, "Yessum?"

"What was I interrupting?" she asked.

"Cleaning up the streets a bit, mopping them with a few cons cleaning out a stereo store. What can I do you for?"

"Um, I was wondering if you could pick me up a few things before coming back tonight."

"Such as?" I asked, already knowing that one item would be a certain frozen good, namely anything in the ice cream section.

"Well, I need more fruit cups for Mattie, seeing how you ate them yesterday, bread, tomato soup and ice cream, preferably strawberry."

I grumbled as I memorized the list, "I didn't eat all of them, Cass had like two." At the mention of her name she looked at me and scowled beneath her mask. I waved and then pointed to the roof. Once we had secured lines and began to ascend, I asked, "So is she asleep?"

"Yep, went down about an hour ago. I hooked up the video cam and Selina called around seven and Mattie was so excited to see her. But then when she left, she bawled for a good twenty minutes."

"But she's fine, right?" I asked when I landed.

"Oh, sure, we played with her dollies for a bit, then she went down to bed. I keep telling her that they'll be home in a few more days."

"Did she see Bruce at all?"

Barbara paused, "Sorry, thought an alarm went off at the Houghton Pharmacy, but the security code was entered. No, he was swimming before it got dark. Selina says he's just about gone insane with inactivity. Runs in the morning, swims before dinner, then after they go for walks until they can't see anymore. Very romantic."

"I bet."

There was silence again as Batgirl and I made our way towards Oracle's hub. My ears scanned the area and were pleased to not even hear a car honk. I was about to tell Babs that I would see her in a minute when she spoke, "Bruce is going to call in the morning, he wants to talk to you. Well to Mattie, but if you could be around he would appreciate it."

I smiled, "Are you inviting me over for a sleep over, O?"

"No, I'm hooking you up for a cyber date with your father. So can I tell him you'll do it or do I have to reinforce his antisocial behavior with your rejection?"

I sighed and then prepared to make the ten-foot leap between the two Clarkson apartment buildings on 5th, "Well when you put it that way... Tell him I'll be there, on one condition."

"Name it Boy Blunder."

"Two words my dear: foot massage."

Not even thirty-five minutes later, I was sprawled on the couch, a bowl of strawberry ice cream in my stomach, showered, dressed and hypnotized by a movie on the guy channel. All the while, Barbara's hands were working magic on my sore feet. Cass had cleaned up, watched Mattie sleep, scarfed down her own bowl of ice cream and had decided on sleeping instead of watching TV.

In the last week we had spent more time together then as long as I could remember. We had gone out to dinner several times, and had indulged in some heavy duty eating contests, now that competition had been spurned from the wedding reception. So far, she had eaten Tim and I under the table three out of four occasions.

The girl could eat.

As Babs cracked the big toe of my left foot, the credits rolled up on the movie. I shut the television off and yawned loudly, "I am beat."

"Been working hard."

I nodded, "Yeah, but I don't have to go in until six tomorrow night. Get to catch up on the sleep department."

She nodded and offered to take my bowl and spoon for me as she headed out for the kitchen. After I heard water running, I rose, stretched my arms and scratched my back. When I stepped to the kitchen door, I leaned against the frame and watched Barbara as she loaded the dishwasher. With a slight smile, I said, "The wedding was something else."

"Yep, and it was also three days ago," she replied before shutting the washer's door. After wiping her hands, she faced me, "You looked pretty James Bond-esque, I must admit."

I arched my left brow and spoke in a horrid accent, "Why Ms. Moneypenny, I never knew."

Without a thought, I walked over and lifted her from the chair and walked towards her bedroom, all the while quoting 007 and kissing her neck. Just as I maneuvered through her door, Cass stepped into the hall, "Keep it down. People sleep here, y'know."

I hid my smile and Barbara called out, "Sorry, Cass."

The last thing I heard before shutting the door was, "Alfred right. Bloody kids."

V

After four nights away from Gotham, I was used to waking to the sound of the ocean waves rising up on the beach. With my eyes closed, I felt sunlight slipping into the room and Selina's breath on my cheek. It was barely seven in the morning and it was already over sixty degrees.

When I finally opened my eyes, I looked over at Selina, who was facing me while using over a third of my pillow as hers. Her arm was limp over my abdomen and the fingers moved slowly as she slept. With no chance of falling back asleep, I slipped out from under her arm and carefully sat up so not to disturb her. After I paused a moment, I began to rise until I heard, "What are you doing?"

"Making coffee," I smirked and sat back on the bed.

She rolled onto her back and yawned, "What time is it? Four?"

"Ten of seven, go back to sleep."

"Nah, I'm up," she sat as well and crawled over to me, kissing my cheek, "Morning hubby."

I grumbled something incoherent and she slapped my shoulder, which was freshly covered in sunburn after a late morning run the previous day. Although we were far from home, our curse, or rather my curse, of not being able to remain unscathed for more than a day had followed us.

My first swim in the ocean, I had been stung by a small jelly fish across my lower back so I had been unable to lay on my back or sit completely in chairs. Then, not forty hours later, I cut my foot on a piece of glass in the sand. And then yesterday, I absorbed too much UV.

And the worst Selina had seen was hang nail.

While I dressed and cleaned up, Selina had gone out to the kitchenette of the beach house and set the coffee pot. When I left the bathroom, she dashed in, a green dress in hand. She said something about going into town for breakfast. I sighed, considering the trip to town was thirty minutes, ten of which would be spent on an unpaved road. The alternative was that we cooked. I called through the door that I would call and make reservations.

For the last four nights and days, we had stashed ourselves in a small island northwest of Martinique. I had purchased a fourth of the island years earlier and was pleased to see that it had never become truly inhabited aside from a small town that supplied the three other co-owners of the island with entertainments and supplies. In the three times that I had visited the island, I had been to town once and that had been two days earlier when Selina had wanted to go out for dinner.

While she showered, I decided to check and see if Barbara was up yet. Unsure as to whether Dick had to work or not, I wanted to catch him before he returned to Bludhaven. When I logged onto the secure line, a symbol in the bottom right of the display showed that ORACLE was offline. I then checked the Instant Message system and say OraBG99 was online, but away: Feeding the children, and Mattie too.

I sent her a message: Ready?

The speakers on the laptop offered, "For what?" in Barbara's voice.

I turned the microphone on, "Is Mattie eating?"

"Kind of, Dick's washing her up a bit, had an incident with our banana."

"I need to talk to him first."

She sighed, "Hold on, let me give him the headset while I set up the cam. Cass, can you take her to the living room?"

Then, Dick, "Hey, how're the jellyfish biting?"

I didn't reply. Selina had informed everyone of my mishaps over her nightly phone calls. It had been none of their business, but Selina felt it was necessary, for entertainment's sake.

After a beat, "So, Babs said you needed to talk to me."

"Not needed. Wanted to," I caught myself, "Wanted to check in on things."

Suddenly, his image filled the screen and I noticed that an outgoing image of myself had begun as well. That woman was too good with computers. I had expected to see him prepped for work in his uniform but to my surprise, he wore a gray tee shirt and had yet to shave. Before I could comment, he grinned as he looked at my image, "Hey, you're not ready for the day either, so don't even start."

I nodded, "Good point."

An awkward silence fell between us and instead of putting the pressure on him to speak, I cleared my throat and looked towards the window, giving him a profile view of my face, "I want to... You've done a lot, Dick. More than..." my eyes returned to look at the camera. His face was beaming on the display screen, his blue eyes twinkling as they often had a way of doing.

He said softly, "Thanks, Bruce."

"No," I said sternly to myself, "I should be able to say this."

He shook his head, "Babs, he's talking to himself, think he's got Dengue Fever."

Instead of throwing him an icy glare to tell him to knock it off, I felt a smile crack and then quickly fade. After a long breath, I spoke quietly, looking directly at him from a thousand miles away, "Thank you, son."

He blinked, tried to smile and then shrugged, "Anytime. Hey, I think I know a little ankle biter who would love to see your face." He disappeared momentarily, leaving me to look at the rear wall of Barbara's apartment. While I waited, Selina came out of the bedroom, dressed in a long, narrow, sleeveless silk dress the color of kiwi flesh. She had put her hair up, still wet, and droplets of water flecked off when she moved her head.

She saw the computer set up and grinned, "Tell me you didn't talk to her without me."

"Why, you talked to her without me last night."

She stared down at me, hands on her hips, "You were trying to run your feet to nubs. I was showering. Big difference, Bruce."

Instead of pulling over a chair to sit beside me, she went about plopping down on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck while she situated herself. I shook my head and was about to comment on how I wasn't a chair when Dick returned with Mattie in his arms. He pointed to the screen several times, until he got her to look at he camera.

I hadn't seen her since Monday night, which had been the last time the satellite imaging had worked. A small storm had followed us from Gotham and had interrupted the signal Oracle had set up for us. She bounced on his lap and began poking at the keyboard. He gently removed her hands and whispered in her ear, "Say hi to Mommy and Daddy."

Selina faced the monitor and cooed, "Hi baby."

At the sound of her voice, Mattie grinned and held her hands up. I put my face on the other side of Selina's and smiled lightly, "Kitten."

"Mah-mie," she said, her face confused as she looked at the screen. At her age, the image was disregarding everything she knew about reality. But I had wanted her to be able to know that we weren't gone forever. "Icie nahp."

"Isis is taking a nap?"

Dick commented, "Uh, yeah, Alfred and Leslie took a small, um, jaunt out of town, brought the kitty down here for a few days."

Selina went about asking Mattie what she had for breakfast and what she was going to do that day. All the while I sat back and watched, a half smile on my face even though I felt terrible for leaving her behind. I listened as my daughter told stories about her bananas and that "Dichie" gave her a bubble bath. I felt Selina's hand reach for mine and when they met, she squeezed hard.

We were both in withdrawal.

"Do you see Daddy, Mattie?" she asked.

As my cue, I sat forward again and looked into the camera. She reached towards the screen and touched it "Dah-ie. Wan Dah-ie."

"I'll be home soon, kitten, we both will."

Dick then spoke, "You should tell them where we're going today. Remember where we're going to take a trip?"

Mattie's eyes had grown focused as she touched the screen but then lit up briefly as she said, "Poh-nie."

Selina laughed, "You are going to see a pony?"

Dick nodded, "There's a small fair up near Camden, we're all going to go for the day. Eat junk food and ride the rides and see the ponies and the llamas... Lots of fun, right kiddo?"

"Poh-nie, yama," she giggled as Dick tickled her sides.

The screen dimmed and I cursed myself for not charging the laptop. The battery was in the other room. I was about to whisper to Selina that I would run and get when the light flickered once more at the bottom of the screen. There wouldn't be enough time.

I sighed and then said, "Well it sounds like you've got quite the busy day. Maybe later we can talk and you can tell us all about the ponies."

Mattie had resumed staring at the screen, her head titled and lips pressed firmly together. A look I knew meant tears were in the near future. I smiled at her, "It's okay kitten. We'll be home soon."

"Mommy loves you Mattie," Selina said as she raised a hand to her face, wiping away a tear I couldn't see. "You be a good girl."

Mattie's lower lip trembled, "Wan dah-ie."

"I know you, do. Be good, okay," I said quickly, the light glaring at me as it flickered its warning.

Dick prodded her a bit, "Say bye bye, I love you."

"Mahmie-bye. Bye wuv Dah-ie."

And then the screen went blank.

Selina turned and faced me while sitting sideways on my lap. Her eyes were glassy but no tears. She recognized the look on my face and wrapped her arms around me, "It 's all right, we'll see her later. And she'll be so talkative, they'll have to kick her off. She's going to love the fair. Maybe Dick can win her a gold fish."

I nodded, my jaw tight.

After she stood and smoothed her dress, Selina walked around the back of me and leaned over, kissing my cheek, "Don't worry, be happy."

I nodded once more and then stood. She led the way to the bedroom and picked out an outfit for me, khaki shorts and a dark blue shirt. As she talked on about how she wanted to try snorkeling again that afternoon, I simply stood and watched her. She had been under my gaze many times, and could feel it without looking at me.

When she turned, she winked, growled something to the sound of "Mrrrow" and left the room, "Get dressed, I'm hungry. Shave too, just because you're on vacation doesn't mean you get to go all Grizzly Adams on me."

Before I set foot in the bathroom to shower, she called back, "And don't shave with my blade either!"

In solitude, I mocked her quietly, "Don't use my blade, or my ten dollar a bottle strawberry mouse shaving lotion---."

"I heard that!"

"Sorry, dear."

Ten minutes later, we were getting in the car, a rented Jeep Cherokee, and were just about to head out for town when she reached over and kissed me on the lips. After we separated, I asked, "Mrs. Wayne. Would you hand me my sunglasses."

She grinned and did so, "Certainly, Mr. Wayne."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wayne."

"You are welcome, Mr. Wayne."

Despite the rough roads, the CD player worked just fine in the car and as we made our way to the small town, Frank Sinatra remind us that love and marriage went together like a horse and carriage. Selina moved closer, rested her head on my shoulder and sang along softly. It was nearly seventy-five degrees. Not a cloud in the sky. The beautiful woman at my shoulder was now not only the mother of my child but my wife as well. My biggest problem of the day would be itchy sunburn.

Before I wrapped an arm around her back, I thought to myself, Life is good.

V


End file.
